Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (103 page)

He wrung out his sodden chemise as he strode
to an opening that Niall had not noticed. There were stairs leading
below the deck and he halted there to shake a finger at his woman.
“Didn’t we make a deal for this trip? No mumbo jumbo?”

She shuffled her feet. “Oh, but Derek, this
just
happened
…”

Derek arched a skeptical brow. “You mean
you’re not going to insist that it’s fate or something
similar?”

The little woman flushed guiltily and Niall
suspected these two knew each other too well to be fooled. “Well…”
she began tentatively, flicking a glance to her man.

“
Fate!” Viviane breathed
and danced toward Niall again, her eyes shining. “That’s exactly
what it is! You followed me here because we’re destined to be
together. In all the old tales, it’s exactly that way – the people
who are destined to be together forever find each other over and
over again, despite the odds against them.” She smiled in a way
that truly did make Niall feel like a champion. “Oh, Paula, isn’t
this just perfect?”

The two women grinned at each other. Derek
and Niall exchanged telling glances.

Derek flung his hands skyward again. “See?
See what I have to deal with? Every day more of the same. Crystals
and rune stones and reams of import and tarot cards.” He snorted.
“I’m going to change into something dry.” Derek cocked a finger at
Niall. “You want to escape this conversation, you’re welcome to
borrow something and do the same.”

Niall, though, was not entirely certain he
wanted to be alone in a small space with this kissing man. He bowed
and summoned his best manners. “I thank you for your
hospitality…”

“
Yeah, well, thanks for not
drowning on my watch, wherever the hell you came from. Paula, if
ever a man needed one of your concoctions, Sir Niall here would be
my prime candidate.” He granted the little woman a stern look.
“Maybe you could remember our deal by the time I come
back.”

With that, Derek stomped down the stairs in
obviously poor temper. An unrepentant Paula stuck out her tongue at
his back and Monty laughed.

“
What deal is this?” he
asked.

“
Oh, Derek would only sail
up here if I promised to not get all woowoo on him,” Paula
explained breezily, then rolled her eyes. “His term. Don’t worry
about him. If he just learned to trust his inner voice, he’d be
much more at peace in this life.” Paula dropped her voice
confidentially. “It’s an Aries thing, you know. It’s not like he
can help it.”

Niall blinked at this incomprehensible
claim, his gaze rising of its own accord to meet Viviane’s. She
looked as confused as he was by this reference and shrugged when
their gazes caught. Niall almost smiled at the sudden sense of
camaraderie between them, but managed to catch himself and scowl
instead.

It still did not halt Viviane’s smile.

Monty tapped his toe. “But I don’t get it.
So, like, what’s the whole story here? Have you got magical powers
or something, Viviane? You holding out on us? How’s you make this
guy just show up
poof
?”

“
She is condemned as a
witch and sentenced to die,” Niall felt it pertinent to
explain.

Both Paula and Monty looked alarmed by this,
but Viviane lifted her chin. “I’m not a witch.” She looked directly
at Niall. “I told you that before,” she added, her voice soft with
accusation, then her eyes filled with a hurt far more compelling
than Majella’s tears. “I thought you believed me.”

Niall felt an unwelcome jab of what could
have been guilt.

Aye, he wanted to believe Viviane; indeed,
when she turned that tearful gaze upon him, Niall
did
believe her.

And that was the root of the problem.

Before meeting Viviane, Niall had believed
himself to be a good judge of another’s heart. Now, he
knew
he was wrong about her, knew it without doubt, yet his heart
insisted he should believe her still.

He hesitated too long, for Monty moved
quickly to console Viviane, sliding one arm around her waist and
shooting a triumphant glance at Niall. “Hey, babe, don’t you think
this fourteenth-century thing is like getting a bit out of hand?
Sentenced to
die
?” He grimaced and Viviane smiled wanly.

When she leaned her head against his
shoulder, this Monty’s expression turned smug.

Niall felt his lips thin. So that was how
’twould be. Not that it mattered to Niall where the witch granted
her favors. Nay! ’Twas a better thing to be so clearly reminded
that her temptation of him truly meant naught.

He folded his arms across his chest and let
his voice turn stern. “Aye, I was fool enough to believe your tales
afore, and indulge your request. Now the price must be paid in
full, and that at the archbishop’s command.”

Viviane’s head snapped up. “The archbishop
lied to me!”

Niall could hardly argue with the simple
truth of that.

Before he could decide whether to debate the
mater or simply seize the witch and be done with it, Paula laid a
hand on his arm. “Derek’s right, you’ve got to get changed. With
this wind, you’ll have pneumonia in no time.”

“
My garb is perfectly
suitable.”

“
It’s wet!”

“
I shall don dry garb upon
my return homeward.”

“
You can’t wait that long!”
Paula caught at Niall’s elbow when he did not move, leading him to
the small ship’s hatchway. ‘You have to get into some dry clothes
before you catch a chill, then I’ll make you a nice
marguerita.”

“
Nay, I will not be parted
from the witch,” Niall argued. “I cannot let her from my
sight!”

“
Viviane isn’t going
anywhere.” The small woman pushed him toward the stairs as Niall
found himself unexpectedly confused by the sweet smile Viviane
suddenly bestowed upon him. “I promise.”

Niall hesitated, caught between duty and
comfort.

“
Where would she go? We’re
out at sea,” Paula chided. Her words were little reassurance, for
Niall knew well enough that the pendant Viviane fingered could take
her anywhere she so wished.

He pivoted to face the witch, not surprised
to find her gaze locked upon him. And once again, Niall was tempted
to trust her.

“
You must grant me your
pledge that you will be here when I return,” he demanded of
her.

Viviane sobered and straightened, though she
could not or did not quell the expression of feminine delight
lingering in her eyes. Niall wondered what conclusion she had made
now, then her words fell low and filled with conviction. “I do. I
swear it to you.”

Niall’s heart thumped at the way Viviane’s
luminous gaze clung to his, but her pledge, whatever ’twas worth,
was likely all the guarantee he would win.

And, yet again, as much as he might have
preferred otherwise, Niall believed her.

Curse women and their wiles!

Paula rapped an authoritarian finger on his
arm. “Derek won’t let anyone drown on his watch and I won’t let
anyone catch pneumonia. Come on, don’t fight me on this.” Paula
grabbed Niall’s tabard and pulled him hard toward the stairs.
“Derek must have something that will fit you.”

Niall spared the witch one last glance, and
the moonstone pendant winked in the sunlight, as though to remind
him of his own pledge. ’Twas true enough that Viviane affected his
thinking, but Sir Niall of Malloy was not without a certain charm
of his own.

He would win possession of that pendant and
return to the archbishop’s court, or die in the attempt. ’Twas a
quest he had committed to fulfill, after all.

And he would have one lingering kiss to call
his own before all was said and done. ’Twas only reasonable, given
how Viviane seemed determined to tempt him.

One kiss surely could hurt naught.

*

Her knight had followed her!

Viviane could hardly believe her luck. Oh,
her fortune had changed for the better when she met Sir Niall of
Malloy, there was no doubt about that! She had always been lucky,
but this man seemed to bring out the best that Dame Fortune had to
offer.

Or maybe Dame Fortune - in concert with the
blue moon watching over Viviane’s birth - had picked this knight
out just for her. Oh yes, Viviane had made the right choice in
having her Gawain look just like Niall - he was a perfect hero.
Niall’s pursuit of her, his return of her beloved pendant, it was
just like an old tale and proved the kind of man he was beyond any
doubt.

Viviane hugged herself, impatient for him to
make a reappearance from below. Niall was every bit as big and
burly and gruff as she remembered - oh, he roared, but she could
see that enormous heart of his just shining in his eyes.

It was pretty obvious that Niall was what
Monty called a straight-and-narrow kind of guy, someone who was
concerned with following the rules and upholding justice.

It was what made him such a wonderful
knight.

But, of course, that meant that he was
troubled that she had been found guilty as a witch. It was only
natural. Anyone could see, though, that he didn’t quite believe it.
After all, he had followed her, even with that cloud hanging over
her name.

The only possible explanation was that he
was in love with her. That was the only reason men overlooked
things like that.

It wasn’t such a far flung thought. Viviane
was sure that she was pretty much in love with Niall already. What
woman wouldn’t be? If not all the way in love, she could certainly
get there from here. And the way he looked at her - she shivered in
delighted recollection - well, it made her tingle right to her
toes.

As soon as Viviane explained the truth to
Niall, as soon as he knew that the archbishop was wrong and that
she wasn’t really a witch, well, it would be obvious to him as it
was to her that they were meant for each other.

And clearly, since he was her knight, then
she was his lady, which could only mean that he would defend her to
his dying breath and all that good stuff. It was always that way in
the tales and it was certainly that way in Viviane’s book.

Absolutely perfect.

When Niall’s head appeared at the top of the
stairs, his golden hair glinting with the sunlight, Viviane’s
breath caught in her throat. He stretched, not unlike a great cat
and turned his face up to the sun, as though he savored the heat of
it upon his skin. It was not Viviane’s imagination that he seemed
to grow stronger beneath those caressing rays, bigger and more
thoroughly golden.

Gawain, after all, was linked to the sun,
Viviane remembered that. The legendary knight’s strength waxed
until midday, then waned to midnight. He could only be defeated in
the afternoon, and that on the shortest day of the year, the
blackest night of winter.

And Niall of Malloy obviously belonged in
the sunshine. Viviane had a sudden insight into his grumpiness in
the archbishop’s dungeons. It must have nearly killed him to be
trapped away in the darkness like that, and no wonder it affected
his mood. Well, he wouldn’t want to go back there any more than she
did!

Niall had to turn slightly sideways to ease
his shoulders through the narrow opening, the red t-shirt he had
evidently been loaned was stretched slightly to accommodate his
breadth. His arms were tanned to a rich golden hue, he wore a thick
golden bracelet upon his left wrist. Derek’s shorts outlined the
muscles of Niall’s thighs and left his tanned legs bare.

Viviane swallowed, certain she had never
seen a man so powerfully built.

Or so very alluring.

As though he heard her thoughts, Niall
glanced up and their gazes locked once again. Viviane’s heart
pounded and she was completely unaware that Monty left her side,
despite his sour comment.

There was only Niall. They might have been
alone in the world when he came closer, purpose in every step.

Viviane’s pulse began to flutter in her
throat. She could remember the imprint of his lips against her own,
the warm salt-tinged taste of him when she had kissed him in
gratitude. He gripped the handrail with a broad strong hand, the
same hand that had rested heavily on the back of Viviane’s waist
and urged her closer.

If she hadn’t stepped away from him then,
Viviane knew she would be kissing him still.

She had a funny certainty that the next kiss
they shared - and there would be one! - wouldn’t be nearly so
fleeting as the last.

Niall marked the distance between them with
decisive steps and Viviane suddenly felt very very warm. She
couldn’t have said a word to save her life, a fact that would have
shocked anyone (besides the residents of Avalon) who had even a
passing acquaintance with her.

He braced his arms on the rail beside
Viviane, so close that his bare skin brushed against her own. She
watched him squint as he absently surveyed the distant shoreline.
Viviane could feel the heat of him so close beside her, and she
wanted to touch him more than anything in all the world.

“
You kept your pledge,” he
murmured, pleasure and surprise mingled in his low
tones.

“
Yes,” she managed to
say.

Niall shot a quick glance her way. “’Tis not
a trait one might expect from a witch.”

Viviane saw the blond hair on his forearms
stir in the wind from the sea and caught the scent of his skin. Her
mouth was completely dry. “I suppose not.”

Niall met her gaze steadily, unexpected
humor dancing in the emerald depths of his eyes. “I have never
known you to be without words,” he teased, an equally unexpected
smile curving his firm lips. “Has something gone awry?”

Viviane felt herself blush and knew she
would never find another word again. She stared as that smile
widened, ever so slowly, as tantalizing and warming as she had
expected it to be.