The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance (70 page)

“Oh, God . . .” Shaken, she slumped against a rock just as the dog she’d seen earlier came bounding up to her, barking excitedly and wagging his tail as he scampered close to sniff at her scraped and bloodied knees.

“Snorri!” A man’s deep voice called the dog away. “Leave the lass be.”

“Oh, God,” Lindy gasped again, recognizing the rich burr. “It’s you! Lore . . . Rogan!”

And then, just as she glanced up, seeing indeed that it was him, a sea of stars flittered across her vision and the world went black. But not before she felt strong manly arms slide protectively around her. They were familiar arms and so dear, nothing else mattered but knowing that Rogan MacGraith was lifting her, holding her safe.

She’d come home at last.

Wherever – and
whenever
– that might be.

Four

Her hands were bandaged.

And – this is what really woke Lindy – someone was kissing her fingertips.

That same someone was also murmuring Gaelic love words, his breath soft and warm against her skin. Lindy’s heart skittered and she opened her eyes, looking into the face she’d loved forever. She knew that now, the surety of it filling her with a completeness, a sense of rightness and contentment, such as she’d never known.

At least not in the twenty-first century life she’d left behind.

That she was now somewhere else was clear.

The evidence was all around her. But most of all , she felt it inside her. She’d been returned to a place and time she belonged, it was like nowhere else. If she had any doubt – which she didn’t – the love shining in Rogan MacGraith’s eyes as he sat beside her on the huge medievalfour-poster bed, told her everything she needed to know.

The important things, anyway.

Such as how much she meant to him and how glad he was to see her.

That his dog – the one she’d seen below the cliffs, when she’d fall en – stood beside the bed wagging his tail and looking at her with adoration was another boon.

She was definitely welcome here.

The dog edged forwards to nudge her with his nose, proving it.

His master grinned, the sight warming her to her toes.

“Precious lass.” Rogan’s voice, so deep and deliciously burred, was even more seductive than in her dreams. “I would spare you every hurt, but if you had to fall down the cliff to come to me, then—” he kissed her hands again “—I thank the gods for the misstep that brought you into my arms.

“And now that I have you—” he reached to smooth the hair back from her face “—I would know your name at last.”

“Lindy.” She didn’t want to speak. It was bliss just to listen to his beautifulvoice. “My name is Lindy. Lindy Lovejoy.”

“Lindy.” He made her name sound like a song. “’Tis a fitting name for one who fills my heart with such gladness. Sakes, lass—” he took her face between his hands, kissing her soundly “—when I saw you fall , I thought I’d lost you. To have you so close, within touching distance and then . . .” Rather than finish, he pulled her hard against him, almost crushing her in his arms. “You are mine, Lindy. Now that you’re here, I willnever let you go.”

Lindy almost swooned. “You won’t have to. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.”

She hoped that was true.

It was so hard to believe he really was holding her. Running his hands through her hair, touching her face, and – oh, joy! – kissing her.

She wasn’t dreaming.

This was real.

And – she suddenly realized – with the exception of the linen bandaging wrapped around her hands, she wasn’t wearing anything. She was naked. Though, proving medieval gallantry, someone had taken care to cover her with a soft furred throw and a lustrous welter of silken, richly embroidered sheets. She was also leaning back against a sea of plumped pillows.

Her comfort clearly mattered.

But her clothes . . .

They were definitely gone.

As if he’d read her thoughts, a slow, dangerously sexy smile curved Rogan’s mouth. “You couldn’t stay garbed as you were. I had to—”

“You undressed me?” She blinked. The notion both excited and embarrassed her.

“You’ll no’ deny I’ve done so before?” His smile reached his eyes, the effect positively wicked. “Many times, it’s been, aye, if I were to count.”

“I know that.” She spoke the truth. He’d undressed her a thousand times, in her dreams and fantasies. In the pages of her umpteen times rejected romance novel. And, she now suspected, he’d also done so in other lifetimes such as a Viking.

She tightened her arms around his neck, half afraid he’d disappear. “What I don’t understand is how I came to be here. How did you find me?”

He glanced at his dog. “Truth to tell, it was Snorri. He’d gone missing and when I went searching for him, I heard his barks and followed, knowing he’d be at the cave. I reached the strand just in time to see you falling.”

“You didn’t see me before?”

“Oh, aye.” He grinned. “In my dreams, nigh every night, if you’d hear how it was.”

He patted his dog’s head, scratching the beast’s ears. “You can ask Snorri. We keep no secrets from each other. He knows how I’ve pined for you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Lindy hesitated, aware of the heat staining her cheeks. “I know we’ve shared dreams. But there’s more. I’m certain – ” this was so hard to say “ – we’ve shared past lives. That we’ve always been together, but this time something went wrong. I was born in the wrong place. Somewhere distant and far from here and impossible to reach you, until —”

“The cave brought you back to me.” He made it sound so easy.

So plausible.

Lindy frowned. “Smoo Cave? So it really is a kind of time portal? An entrance to other realms as all the lore and legend claims?”

She so wanted to believe.

Rogan was nodding as if he did. “I canna say if the cave is a time portal. Though, after seeing your clothes, I’ll own they did no’ come from any world that I know.” He stood and started pacing. “That’s why I left them in the cave. There are cracks and crevices so deep that no man can retrieve anything that is thrown into them. And—” he came back to the bed, once more sitting on its edge “—strange as Smoo is known to be, I couldn’t all ow my kinsmen to see such raiments. Your shoes alone would have caused too many questions. That is why I stripped you.” His gaze flashed the length of her, the look in his eyes burning her as if he could see her nakedness right through the thickness of the furred covering and bed sheets.

“And you’re not curious yourself?” Lindy had to ask.

His gaze burned even hotter. “All I care about, sweet, is having you with me.”

Taking her in his arms again, he kissed her thoroughly, leaving her breathless when he pulled away. “You could have come to me draped in seaweed or glittering from head to toe in twinkly starlight and it wouldn’t have made a difference. I only want you.”

“But – ”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “There are no buts in my world, Lindy-lass. Though I will tell you that, as a MacGraith, I slipped into this life knowing that there are things we canna ever hope to explain.

“MacGraiths are the hereditary guardians of Smoo Cave. Since time was, we have been here at Castle Daunt, watching always to ensure that nothing passes in or out of the cave without our knowledge.”

Lindy stared at him. “So you’re fairies?” The plots of countless paranormal romance novels came to mind. “Immortals guarding the entrance to—”

“Guarding, aye, but we’re no’ immortal.” He laughed, grinning again. “We’re flesh-and-blood men, as rock solid as any other man.” His smile turned wicked again and he pulled her back into his arms, holding her close. “You should know how solid I am, Lindy-sweet.”

She flushed, knowing indeed.

His
solidness
was very apparent, though neither one of them had yet acknowledged the obvious.

It was one thing to be naked together and burn up the sheets in a dream. Being naked in his arms
for real
was both a wildly exhilarating thought and flat out terrifying.

And not alarming without reason.

Trying to be discreet, Lindy cast an assessing glance at her well -covered body. The sad fact was that, although Rogan was undoubtedly passionately in love with her in fantasy form, the
real
Lindy Lovejoy might just be packing a few pounds more than the dream edition.

Sure that was true, her cheeks flamed brighter.

How sad that her love of fish and chips had kept pace with her around Scotland.

Not to mention haggis with neeps and tatties.

Or steak and ale pie.

Lindy frowned, wondering if she could just stay hidden beneath the covers forever.

A notion that brought another, equally disturbing thought. How could she think in terms of eternity when she might only be here a nano-second? She’d spent too many hours working at Ye Olde Pagan Times not to be well versed in the ins and outs of all things supernatural.

Her manifestation in Rogan’s time had surely upset the balance in her own world.

Something somewhere wasn’t right.

It was kind of like plucking a thread from a knitted sweater. No matter how carefully you pulled, a hole appeared.

“Oh, God.” Dread tightened her chest and heat burned her eyes, blurring the richly appointed room and all its lush, oh-so-realmedievaltrappings.

Rogan sprang off the bed. “What is it?” His gaze flew to her injured hands. “Are you in pain? Did I tie the bandages too tight?”

Snorribarked, sharing his master’s concern.

“Or—” Rogan jerked a glance at the door “—shall I call for the clan hen wife? Perhaps you hurt yourself worse than we know. You might be in need of—”

“No.” Lindy stood, careful to snatch a pillow and hold it strategically. “I’m fine, really. It’s just that—”

“Here—” Rogan swirled a plaid around her shoulders “—I’ll no’ have you taking a chill .” He strode across the room and yanked the shutters tight, dusting his hands as he turned back to her.

But not before Lindy caught a look at the view. A cold drizzle was falling and she’d seen mist, lots of drifting curtains of mist. But she’d also seen endless roll ing moorland and dark, rugged hills. A vast wilderness that stretched as far as the eye could see. It was also a landscape covered with thick woods.

The Scotland she’d left hadn’t been anywhere near as forested.

Needing to be sure of what she’d seen, she gripped Rogan’s borrowed plaid more tightly about her and went to the window, opening the shutters he’d just closed.

She hadn’t been mistaken. She really was looking out at medievalScotland.

And if the scenery wasn’t proof enough, the deep silence was. Only a world truly empty of everything modern could be so still .

And the
texture
of the air! Even with the damp gusting wind and all the mist, everywhere she looked, the world seemed filled with light and colour in ways she’d never have believed possible. Almost like an uncut jewel, sparkling in its purity.

Lindy gulped, her heart splitting. It was as if she’d stepped inside her own story.

She so wanted to stay here.

“Just
what,
lass?” Rogan’s arms went around from behind and he pull ed her back against his chest. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”

Lindy bit her lip. She was
not
going to cry. “I . . . it’s just that—”

“Ho, Rogan!” The door flew open and a young man burst into the room. Big, hairy and kilted, he looked like he’d just stepped off the set of
Rob Roy
or
Braveheart.
But for all his fierce appearance, the slack-jawed, owl-eyed stare he gave Lindy made him much less intimidating.

“It’s herself!” He raised an arm, pointing. “Your dream vixen! You’ve described her so often, I’d know her anywhere.”

“You’re forgetting your manners.” Rogan scowled at him. “MacGraiths know better than to gawk at women, whoe’er they might be. This loon, if you’re curious—” Rogan glanced at Lindy “—is my cousin, Gavin.”

“My lady.” Gavin bobbed his head, the crookedness of his smile revealing a chipped tooth.

The introduction made, Rogan crossed the room in three swift strides and took the younger man by the elbow, turning him back towards the door. “Away with you now and hold your flapping tongue.”

“I canna. Your da sent me up here with grim tidings.” Gavin broke free and swatted at his mussed sleeve. “One o’ the men just hastened in from Smoo. Lady Euphemia was walking along the cliffs above the cave and before he could call out a warning—” he paused, throwing a look at Lindy “—she slipped into one o’ the sinkholes. He swears he saw her go down and even heard her scream, but when he ran over to the edge o’ the crevice and peered in, she disappeared.”

Lindy gasped.

Rogan slid an arm around her, drawing her near. “The tide washes in and out of the sinkholes. Have men searched the beach? Or, if there’s no sign of her there, have they taken out boats? She could have been washed out to sea and might be in the water around the cliffs.”