The Promise (44 page)

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she surveyed
her hotel room. It was fairly large, nice in an antiquated sort of
way. It had been late when she'd arrived. So late, in fact, that
she had hardly noticed her surroundings. Bed had been her first
priority. Now awake, she sat up, pulling the covers with her.

Pale moonlight spilled in through the window's
archway, making its small diamond panes glitter. The room was
certainly charming by moonlight. The beams danced along the walls
creating intricate patterns of light and dark, complimented by the
glow coming from the fireplace. She frowned. Surely there hadn't
been a fireplace? Instead, she remembered there being a
rusty-looking radiator in the corner. Of course, she
had
been exhausted when she'd arrived. Maybe she'd just imagined
it.

What she needed right now was a glass of water.
Cautiously, she stuck a foot out of the pile of blankets. The room
was cold. She glanced at the fireplace and wondered if poking it
would revive the dying fire. She'd been a Girl Scout, but that was
years ago and besides, she had never really mastered the art of
fire making.

With a groan, she left the warm comfort of the bed.
The stone floor felt icy under her bare feet. Odd—she would have
sworn there was carpeting. Padding over to the fireplace, she
grabbed what looked to be a poker and prodded randomly at the
glowing coals. They scattered and dimmed slightly. Okay, so she
wasn't a fire builder. Giving up, she dropped the poker with a
clatter. Where was the bathroom?

There was a large ornately carved door on the
adjacent wall that obviously served as the entrance. Rejecting it,
Katherine spotted a second door next to the fireplace. It was set
into the wall under a stone archway that echoed the style of the
larger arch over the window.

With a sleepy yawn, she stepped into the recess,
waiting a minute for her eyes to adjust to the deeper shadows of
the alcove. She squinted at the door. It was made of heavy wooden
planks with iron hinges, a hammered metal ring serving as a
doorknob. All in all, it was a heck of a door, especially for a
bathroom.

Katherine's sleep-clouded mind struggled again with
the vague sense that the room was different from what she
remembered. She certainly hadn't noticed this door or its
accompanying stone archway. In fact, now that she thought about it,
she wasn't sure she remembered the window's being set into an arch
either. She frowned. Obviously her exhaustion had dimmed her powers
of perception. With a mental shrug, she pushed the heavy door
open.

The room beyond was darker than her room. Moonlight
seeped around the corners of some sort of drapery hanging from a
window. The dim light kept the room from being pitch black, but
still relegated its contents to deep shadow. She took a hesitant
step into the room. There was carpeting here, at least. Her toes
curled into the warmth. She tried to figure out where she was. She
wasn't in the hallway or the bathroom. Biting her lower lip, she
ran her fingers through her long hair, absently combing out the
tangles. Confused and uncertain, she wondered if she was
dreaming.

Slowly, cautiously, she stepped farther into the
room. If this was indeed a dream, she was safe from harm; and,
dream or not, her curiosity was aroused. She made out the shape of
a bed within the shadows. A bedroom. In her hurry to sleep, she
must have overlooked the connecting door last night. With cautious
steps, she crossed to the foot of the big bed. She reached out to
touch a bedpost, stopping in mid-motion when she heard a noise.
Heart pounding, she looked into the blackness of the bed itself.
Was someone there? It was simply too dark to see. She strained into
the darkness, listening intently. Silence surrounded her.

She let out her breath with a whoosh and laughed at
herself. Of course there was nobody in here. This room must be a
part of her own, the second room in a suite. If not, the adjoining
door would have been locked, wouldn't it? Calmed by the fact, she
moved around to the side of the bed.

"If you're going to invade my chamber, why no' join
me in the bed?"

Katherine froze. The dark voice was warm, like brandy
or whisky. It filled her, caressing her with its smoky resonance.
She peered into the shadows, trying to find its source. Faltering,
she took a step back, her eyes locking on the dark shape moving
within the confines of the bed. Her heart was pounding again.

"Excuse me, I—"

The sound of her voice sent a shiver chasing down
Iain's spine. What manner of bewitchment was this? He'd seen her
for only a moment, illuminated by the moonlight filtering in from
the adjoining room. It had silvered her long hair and caressed the
soft curves of her body. But then she had moved, disappearing into
the shadows. He'd thought her a figment of his imagination. The
last vestiges of a fantasy. But now she stood by his bed. A living,
breathing thing. His body tightened, responding to her nearness, to
the sound of her voice. He needed to touch her. To assure himself
that this wasn't a dream.

Katherine swallowed and took another step backward,
but before she could retreat, he was standing in front of her, his
strong arms encircling her waist. She sucked in a breath, inhaling
the spicy scent of male. With a start, she realized she was pressed
against hard muscle and velvet skin. Even as she thought to be
afraid, she felt a curious warmth spreading through her body, an
aching, tingling feeling. She looked up, trying to see his face. It
was shadowed in darkness, but she could feel the warmth of his
breath on her cheek, see the white of his teeth as he smiled. She
opened her mouth to speak, but her words died as his mouth found
hers. He brushed her lips with his and then tugged softly at her
lower lip. She tensed, thinking to push him away, but her body
rebelled at the thought, and of their own volition, her lips opened
to his kiss. It began as a curious exploration, slow and invading,
but as their tongues met, sparks ignited and the kiss deepened.

Iain's arms tightened around her. She was so soft.
Her hair felt like silk where it brushed against his skin. He had
only meant to touch her, to see if she was real. He had wanted to
stop her retreat. But the feel of her breasts against his chest had
stirred a longing deep within him, a hunger that increased in
magnitude as the kiss they shared deepened. His hands, with a will
of their own, traced the line of her shoulders and back, reaching
down to cup her buttocks and pull her closer against the hardness
of his groin. He felt her hands on his face. Then they moved to
tangle in his hair.

Katherine pressed even closer to him, a whimper
escaping from deep in her throat. She felt the hard muscles of his
chest and arms and the harder bulge that pulsed against her thigh.
This was crazy. She should be afraid, or incensed, or something.
Instead she was on fire. She couldn't get enough of him. Dream
lover. The thought ran through her mind even as she pushed it
away.

Iain wanted more. Still kissing her, his hand found
the soft swelling of her breast. He cupped it gently, feeling it
react to his touch. She arched against him. He growled low in his
throat and bent to touch her with his tongue. He circled the rosy
crest through the fabric of her night shift, feeling the nipple
harden into a tiny taut bud. She moaned, trying to push her breast
into his mouth. He smiled slightly and greedily began to suck,
drawing in more of it. He felt the ache in his groin grow deeper,
hot fire singing through his veins. God's blood, he needed
her—wanted her. Without moving his mouth, he swung her into his
arms and carried her to the bed.

Katherine knew she should move, say something, but
the fire inside her was spreading too fast and the bed was so cool
and soft. In contrast, he was all hardness and heat. He moved
against her, his body touching hers. She ran her hands down his
back, massaging, pressing. Her heart slammed in her chest. She felt
him kissing the pulse at her throat. Again she wondered what
madness had overtaken her. She felt his hand on the inside of her
thigh, warm and strong. Where was her nightgown? She struggled to
remember.

Suddenly, his fingers found her. All rational thought
fled as she rocked with sensation. Never had she felt like this.
She moved against his hand. He stroked her slowly. She wanted more,
but wasn't sure exactly what it was that she wanted. She felt a
long finger slide deep inside her, moving in and out, in and out.
His mouth again found her breast. She felt wild as the fire
continued to spread and an inner throbbing seemed to overwhelm all
her senses.

Iain struggled to hold on to his control, but she was
so hot, so wet. He wanted her as he had never wanted a woman
before. She was a vision, an angel,
his
angel. His lips
moved back to hers. He kissed her almost savagely. She returned his
passion with her mouth and her hands. He felt her quiver deep
inside and knew a moment of deep satisfaction when her body
contracted around his thrusting fingers.

Katherine's thoughts spun out of control. The world
seemed to splinter into color and light. It felt so good. His
fingers were magic. He was taking her higher and higher. She
strained, wanting more. She shuddered with pleasure and suddenly
her body exploded, overwhelming her. He shifted. His hand was gone,
replaced by something bigger and stronger. Instinctively, she moved
her legs apart, wanting more, wanting him.

Iain tangled his hands in her hair. He felt the heat
of her and took a deep breath. He wanted to plunge into her, deep
inside her, feel her surround him. She moved her legs, shifting to
open for him. With a small cry, she lifted to him. He pushed into
her with one strong stroke. He felt resistance and vaguely wondered
at the sensation, but his need was great and he had to have her.
She felt so tight, surrounding him with her heat. He held still,
deep within her, allowing her to adjust to the feel of him. He
strained with the effort to hold back. Slowly, he began to move
again.

Katherine's eyes were wide, her heart pounding. She
felt him moving deep within her. At first, there had been pain, but
now... now it was pain edged with a fierce pleasure. She began to
rock against him, feeling the motion, striving for a rhythm. He
pulled away and she cried out, but just as quickly he was back,
deep inside. She felt the sensations building again, stronger this
time. She met his thrusts with her open, welcoming body and the
fire began to grow again inside her.

Iain felt all control slip away as he climbed higher
and higher, taking her with him in a dance older than time. He
shattered into a million joyous pieces. He felt her shudders and
knew that she, too, had found this magical place. Tightening his
arms around her, he held her, even as she held him, safe in the
circle of what must surely be love.

*****

Katherine's eyes flickered opened. She
stretched, content in the warmth of the bed. Slowly she turned her
head to look at the man sleeping next to her. The room was growing
lighter with the hint of the coming dawn. She could make out the
hard angles and planes of his face. Even in sleep, his strong
features held a certain sensuality. His cheeks and chin were dark
with the stubble of his beard. His long hair tangled about his
shoulders, shining blue-black, soft and satiny. His arm, thrown
possessively around her waist, was powerfully muscled. A scar,
puckered and red, ran across his upper arm. Long healed, it served
as a reminder of what must have been a painful wound. She could
feel the strength and warmth of his thigh against her own. His
breathing was even. He slept deeply.

She reached out to touch him, her fingers brushing
gently across his cheek. He was incredible. Reluctantly, she pulled
back and rolled away, untangling herself from his arms. She stood
quietly by the bed, watching him sleep. She knew she should be
mortified. She had given herself to a stranger. She ought to feel
embarrassed or ashamed, but right now all she could feel was the
heat of the magic they had created. Still, her logical mind knew
that with dawn the magic would end and the beauty of last night
would become tainted by reality. Better to leave now, she thought,
and let the memory remain intact, a moment outside of time.

With a sigh, she drank in the sight of him,
memorizing his powerful features. The word "warrior" popped into
her mind. It was an apt description of the man. Yet she knew that,
despite appearances, there was gentleness in his strong hands and
in the firm curve of his lips. With a last quick look, she turned
to go. Her foot touched the soft silk of her nightgown. She slid it
over her head, and resolutely walked to her room. Crawling into
bed, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

*****

Iain sat up, staring at the door connecting
his chamber with hers. She was gone. He had pretended to sleep, but
it had taken all of his willpower to keep from reaching for her as
she moved away. Now, he sat in frustration, staring at the closed
door. He wanted her still. He felt his body stir and tighten.
Remembering the passion of last night, he closed his eyes, savoring
the memory. He had been her first.

That was why he had pretended to sleep, allowing her
to leave. He had wanted to give her time to adjust to their
joining. With a groan, he realized that perhaps he had been wrong.
Now was not the time to be apart. Last night had been more than a
bedding; it had been a pledge. They belonged to each other as
surely as if they were wed. He smiled a little at the turn of his
thoughts. He had not considered himself a romantic man. Experience
had left him wary and cynical. Suddenly, he knew that he must not
lose what he had found last night. He could not let her go.

His mind made up, he rose from the bed and hurried to
the connecting door. It swung open on quiet hinges as he strode
into the chamber. The light was brighter now, the first pale rays
of sunshine washing over the empty bed. He stood there, unable to
move. Empty ... it was empty. He quickly scanned the chamber. Where
was she? He tried to pull open the door leading from the chamber
into the passageway. It held fast. His brain finally registered the
fact that the bar on the inside of the door was firmly locked in
place. Frustrated and strangely alarmed, he returned to his
chamber. Was it a dream then? His heart slammed painfully in his
chest and he felt his body tighten in fear. Surely not. It had felt
real. No—it
was
real.