Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (70 page)

“
Aye?” Alasdair kept his
tone amiable. “Then when am I to sleep this night?”

The sorceress looked dismayed – a good sign,
to Alasdair’s mind. She was concerned about his welfare, which
could only mean that she was not immune to his charms. “Um, you’ll
have to sleep in the Micra.”

Alasdair snorted. “There is not room for a
dog to sleep in that chariot.”

Morgaine glanced wildly over her shoulder.
“In the pub, then. Can’t you sleep in the tavern?”

If he had not realized it was so critical to
share her bed, Alasdair might have been tempted to agree, if only
to ease the concern in her wide-eyed gaze. She had an unholy allure
herself, that much was certain.

Alasdair gave her a doubly stern glance.
“Those feckless days of my youth are long past, my lady.”

“
Well, you can’t sleep
here!” Her voice rose again, and Alasdair knew he had to reassure
the lady somehow.

“
It does not look such a
foul establishment.” Alasdair tried to peek around the door without
success, then let his voice drop to a confidential rumble. “You
cannot have found the lice so quick as that, my lady. Or is it a
mouse that has sent the wind up you?”

“
There is no mouse! And no
lice – at least I don’t think so.”

“
Then what has made you so
fey?” Alasdair leaned against the door frame and spoke in a
whisper. “What is it I could do to set matters to
rights?”

“
Nothing! I don’t want
anything from you!” Her words were breathless now, her eyes so wide
and dark that they seemed to be bottomless pools. “Just go
away.”

She stared at him, and Alasdair could see
the flutter of her pulse beneath the fine skin of her throat. She
was so delicately wrought, both fragile and resilient. ’Twas no lie
that he had never met the like of her.

And never would he again.

Before he could stop himself, Alasdair
slipped one hand through the opening and gently touched that
dancing pulse. It fluttered beneath his hand like a butterfly.

Had he ever felt anything so soft as the
lady’s skin? His own hand looked heavy and rough in contrast to the
smooth silk of her flesh. The lady caught her breath but she did
not move away, merely stared at him through the crack.

Alasdair wanted her as he had never wanted a
woman before, yet the sight of her trepidation stopped him
cold.

“
Do you truly want me gone,
my lady?” he asked softly.

She closed her eyes, as though she hated the
truth, and shook her head ever so minutely. A single tear stole
from beneath the dark abundance of her lashes and made its way down
her cheek.

Alasdair was humbled by the sight.

“
Surely you cannot be
afraid of me?” He heard his own voice catch.

Morgaine swallowed and her throat moved
beneath his fingertips. “No, not of you exactly,” she admitted in
an uneven whisper. A relief stunning in its power coursed through
Alasdair.

“
Then what troubles
you?”

She stepped away from his touch, letting the
door open with a defeated sigh. Morgaine indicated the bed with one
sweep of her hand, as though she did not trust herself to
speak.

The bed looked fine enough to Alasdair, wide
enough for coupling, long enough for sleeping and plump with
coverlets besides. ’Twas framed by a pair of fine windows that he
guessed would let the morning sun fall upon the mattress.

Indeed, he could scarce have hoped for
better.

But clearly the lady found the bed
fearsome.

Could it be that there was more to her tale
of disliking drink than she had told him?

“
I would never hurt you, my
lady,” Alasdair asserted, his words filled with conviction although
they were no louder than a whisper.

Her lips twisted, but her skepticism did not
reach her eyes. There lurked the hopes and dreams of a lassie who
had been sadly disappointed by whatever she had been granted.

Had some lover left her wounded? Alasdair
determined then and there that he would do whatever was necessary
to see at least one of this lady’s hopes fulfilled.

“
You do not wish to share
the bed.” ’Twas more a statement than a question.

Morgaine shook her head.

Alasdair smiled crookedly and leaned back
against the door frame, leaving the distance between them that she
had made. To his relief, some of the tension seemed to ease from
the sorceress.

“
But why not the room, my
lady?”

She arched a dark brow. “It’s the same
thing.”

Alasdair had to convince her to let him
stay. If he were locked out of her presence for two days and
nights, who knew what decision she could make about his fate?

But Morgaine had to make the choice. ’Twas a
critical step in earning her trust. Never had Alasdair forced a
woman to his touch or his way of thinking and he would not begin
now.

“
I say it is not.” Alasdair
smiled ruefully, hoping to appeal to her compassion. “Would you not
show mercy to an old warrior and let me sleep on the
floor?”

She blinked. “You’d do that?”

“
By your leave. ’Tis a far
sight cleaner than a tavern bench.”

Morgaine shook her head. “You’ll just pounce
on me when I’m asleep.”

“
Nay!” The accusation
straightened Alasdair’s pose. “I would never force myself upon a
woman, much less when she slumbered.” She still looked doubtful,
and Alasdair determinedly ignored her low opinion of his character.
It appeared, after all, that she was judging him by the deeds of
another man, a fair scoundrel from the sounds of it. “I would give
you my word,” he insisted, then held his breath.

The sorceress chewed her lip as she eyed the
room, evidently weighing his proposition.

Then she shook her head. “No. You can’t stay
here. I’m sorry, but it just won’t work.”

Outrage rippled through Alasdair, and now he
stood ramrod-straight. “You would doubt my pledge?”

Morgaine looked uncomfortable and his
irritation died a quick death. “Well, no, not exactly.” She
frowned. “Look, I just don’t know you that well,” she admitted, her
wondrous eyes filled with an appeal for understanding.

Aye, some foul mutt of a man had served her
poorly, that much was for certain! Alasdair’s fists clenched at his
sides as he imagined the reward he could grant such a ruffian. No
man of merit left such shadows in a woman’s eyes, be she sorceress
or nay.

But the problem remained. How could he
convince the enchantress to let him stay? If his pledge meant
naught, what else could he offer her? Somehow he had to win her
invitation, then her trust, then make his way to her bed. Indeed,
it seemed a test he was doomed to fail.

For the love of God, what had Alasdair done
to deserve such a fate?

*

Thunder rumbled suddenly in the distance and
Morgaine paused to listen. Her gaze flicked to the window, back to
Alasdair, then away.

“
It’s going to rain,” she
acknowledged and there was a seed of doubt in her tone. When she
chewed her lip, Alasdair understood the direction of her
thoughts.

Ha! She dreaded casting him in out foul
weather! Alasdair had only to feel the tide turn in his direction
to seize the opportunity.

Already he had seen that she could have a
soft heart and Alasdair hoped he could win her sympathy.

“
Aye, the Micra will be
cold and damp, no doubt.” He shrugged, feigning indifference. “But
if you cannot bring yourself to trust a man who would grant you his
word, then what else am I to do?”

Her eyes flashed and Alasdair pretended a
disappointment he was far from feeling.

“
Nay, the Micra ’tis,
though do not be surprised, my lady, if you barely recognized my
twisted body in the morn. With a damp night like this, ’twould be a
fortunate man indeed who could unfold himself from that
vehicle.”

He let his shoulders roll in dejection and
turned in the doorway. The thunder rumbled, louder and much closer,
at the perfect moment.

Indeed, it seemed there was something to
these matters of faith. Alasdair resolved then and there to be more
studious about his prayers.

“
Wait!”

Alasdair did not permit himself to smile,
though his heart began to skip victoriously. He deliberately
schooled his expression before glancing back to the sorceress. “Why
postpone the worst? I had best be on my way, my lady.” He bowed
low. “Sleep well in your fine bed.”

Morgaine frowned. “No, wait. Are you serious
about giving me your word?”

Alasdair slanted a glance toward her. “I
have no qualms about pledging my honor.”

Morgaine folded her arms across her chest
and her breasts made tempting curves as a result. Alasdair forced
himself to look away, though still his body responded to the
fleeting glimpse. ’Twas some spell she had cast over him, to be
certain, but any sign of arousal could have the sorceress doubting
his honor again.

Alasdair forced himself to think of his
wrinkled old gran washing her tired breasts in the morning when she
thought he was asleep.

The image had immediate results on the
suspicious rise under his kilt. Just for good measure, he recalled
exactly how chilling the winter wind could be when it whipped
beneath the plaid on those frosty January morns that he fetched
firewood.

“
All right.” Morgaine
conceded, though her expression remained wary. “Will you promise
not to get into the bed during the night? No funny stuff - you
sleep on the floor and I sleep in the bed.”

Alasdair leaned in the door frame, perfectly
capable of imagining many other places to couple with the
sorceress. ’Twas only a man without ingenuity who limited himself
to a mattress, in Alasdair’s mind.

And he truly had no intention of pouncing on
the lady unaware. Nay, Morgaine would invite him between her thighs
before this was done.

The first rain splattered against the
windows. ’Twas a chilling sound and Morgaine could not keep worry
from sliding over her visage.

She was concerned for his welfare! The
battle was half-won. Alasdair vowed to recite his entire rosary
this very night.

He folded his arms across his chest in turn
and his voice resonated in the small chamber. “I pledge upon the
blood of my forebears to not invite myself into your bed, my lady
Morgaine, on this night or any other.”

The enchantress shifted her weight from one
foot to the other as the rain gained intensity and splattered more
loudly. Alasdair held his breath again, fearing she would change
her mind in the last moment.

“
All right, then,” she said
finally, “you can stay. But any garbage and you’re out of here. I
don’t care what the weather’s like or what time it is. All
right?”

At his nod, she spun on her heel, but
Alasdair was not quite as convinced that the conversation was over.
The road might be taken, but Alasdair would press on to attack the
gates while the wind favored his cause.

“
One moment, my
lady.”

Morgaine glanced over her shoulder.

Alasdair dredged up every increment of his
charm and poured it into his smile. “Should we not seal our
bargain?”

She turned and stuck out her hand, but that
was not the manner of sealing that Alasdair had in mind. ’Twas
clear enough that she had other tokens of esteem in mind, as well,
for that fluttering pulse appeared at her throat once more.

And Alasdair needed no further encouragement
than that minute sign that their thoughts were as one.

*

The worst thing wasn’t that Alasdair’s blue,
blue eyes showed his intent to kiss her.

The worst thing was that Morgan couldn’t
wait. The simple truth was that she wasn’t afraid of Alasdair, or
even of the bed. She was afraid that the power of her own
attraction would make her act like a fool.

Like right now. Even knowing he was going to
kiss her, that she shouldn’t let him, that she
couldn’t
let
him, Morgan just stood there, like a lovesick idiot. She stood and
yearned
as she watched Alasdair step closer. She didn’t move
when he lifted his hand toward her.

Morgan even shivered a little when
Alasdair’s strong fingers curved possessively against her jaw.

And when his thumb, with the rough callus on
one side, slid languidly across her lips, Morgan thought she would
melt like a stick of butter left out of the fridge in a Chicago
July.

She actually leaned closer to him.
Alasdair’s other hand slid up her back to her nape, his fingers
working their way through the thick mass of her hair. He pulled her
gently against his chest and Morgan went willingly, drawn by the
magnetic blue of his eyes and the sensuous smile that curved his
lips.

It was his tenderness that undid her. If he
had tried to force her, Morgan would have fought him tooth and
nail, but this gentle assault was irresistible.

She promised herself to pull away after just
one second more.

How could she resist him? Alasdair had given
her his vow that he wouldn’t press his attentions on her. He had
pledged not to drink any more. Morgan was half-certain that he was
lying to her, but right now, she wanted to believe.

Even if it was just for a single,
tantalizing second more.

Alasdair’s hand slid along her jaw as though
he was marveling at the touch of her, that thumb crested the curve
of her cheek and made her shiver.

Morgan was sure one more second wouldn’t
hurt anything.

He bent and brushed his lips across her
brow, the heat of his breath on her skin making her tremble.
Morgan’s eyes drifted closed as his warmth surrounded her and
Alasdair’s lips drifted across one eyelid, then the other.