Page 57 of Tair

Garia filled a small tub with the hot water she’d brought in buckets, and curtseyed before she left Lucy to bathe. Scrubbing away the dirt and sweat of the night soothed her frazzled nerves, but also gave her time to brood over the reckless way she’d told Tair that she loved him. Her father would have told her never to admit such a thing, and her mother would have scolded her for keeping it to herself for so long when she might have used it against Tair, of course. That was another reason they had been such a disaster as a couple; they didn’t understand the first thing about true love.

Lucy didn’t, either.

She had dried off and slipped into a shift when Tair came in looking as if he wanted to strangle her. “If you came in here to have another go at me, don’t. I know I disobeyed your orders, and I’m sorry about that. Won’t happen again. Don’t make me regret everything I said to you tonight, or I’ll take it back.”

He gave her an ugly look. “You cannae take back your love, wench.”

In that moment all of Lucy’s doubt crashed into a pile of rubble. She loved this man, loved him without reservation, unconditionally and wholeheartedly. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t all human, and because of that might never be capable of actually loving her. She was his for the rest of her life, whether she liked it or not.

“I never will,” Lucy said, resting her hand over his heart. “I’m yours, Laird MacRune.”

Tair made a deep sound halfway between a growl and a groan before he clamped an arm around her and carried her over to his bed. Kissing him while he did that completely occupied Lucy, who now remembered that furious first time in the veiled chamber. Would he rip her shift to shreds? She wouldn’t mind it now; she’d be naked faster. Why had he stopped kissing her, and now stared down at her as if he was afraid?

“Be sure, my lady,” he said, his voice a caress on her mouth. “For after tonight, you’re mine and mine alone.”

There would be no breaking up with this man, Lucy thought, looking all over his face. He’d protect her and love her, but she’d be his for the rest of her life—just as he’d be hers.

“I’ll grow old,” she reminded him. “Old and gray and wrinkly. I won’t be able to give you children, or stay with you for the rest of your life. Can you accept that I’ll change when you can’t, and I’ll leave you behind someday?”

“’Tis the price we both pay, then.” He closed his eyes for a long moment, and then he looked deeply into hers. “’Tis worth that and a thousand more hardships, aye?”

Lucy smiled. “Aye, for I love you, Tair MacRune.”

They made love as they never had, as slowly and carefully as if it were their first time with each other—or anyone. His big hands caressed her as boldly as ever, but his gentleness and unhurried exploration of her made her heart swell with delight. In turn she kissed him everywhere she could reach, finding new places that made his muscles tighten and groans spill from his throat. He lifted her up to straddle his lap, and then higher so he could kiss the tight peaks of her throbbing breasts.

“I shall never tire of these beauties,” he murmured as he kissed the inside curves, and then glided his mouth up to her throat. He put her hand around his thick shaft, and against her ear whispered, “Take me into your sweet quim and fack yourself on me, wench.”

She would always be his wench, Lucy thought as she lifted up and guided his broad cockhead to her folds. Every night he would be on her, touching and kissing and filling her, and it would never be enough for either of them—as it should be between true loves. Once she had him just barely inside her, she sank down, taking him one inch at a time into her hot, wet pussy.

Tair shook as she kept impaling herself on him, his big hands grabbing and squeezing her bottom until her groans blended with his. “You shall be the remaking of me, Lucy Brooke.”

She looked into his eyes, and saw for the first time naked emotion there. He loved her just as much, she guessed, but he couldn’t put it into words. Or perhaps he was afraid to. She didn’t care; to see it seemed enough.

Pushing him back against the bed and stroking his hard cock in and out of her softness, she guided his hands to her breasts. As he squeezed her she danced over him, her entire body lighting up with anticipation and excitement. In another moment she would come, and as she looked down at him she knew he would, too. Everything that had happened since she’d landed in his big, strong arms had brought them to this.

Lucy bent down to kiss him, tasting and stroking his tongue with hers before she lifted and came down on him one last time. With his mouth on hers she burst with joy, her body thrumming wildly with the pleasure he'd given her, and the heat of the heavy stream of seed he now pumped into her. On and on it went, as if time and consciousness didn’t matter anymore, and the universe was this incredible melding of the two of them, heart and body.

When she collapsed on him Tair put his arms around her, and muttered something in Gaelic that sounded like hah gill ackam orst, which made her smile as he pulled the coverlet up over both of them. If he was reeling as much as she was, it probably translated to a very masculine expression of satisfaction.

Lucy drifted into a light doze, but when she opened her eyes she had returned to the dark gray void where she had begun her strange journey back in time. This time she experienced no fear or dread, only a sense of coming full-circle.

“You’re not going to take me back and let my ex-boyfriend shoot me,” she said as she walked forward, hoping nothing would appear this time. “It’s all right now. Tair and I are together, and I don’t want to go back.”

As if to threaten her with that, Pamela Frazier’s gorgeous garden sprang up around her, but it appeared to have grown quite a bit. On one of the wrought iron benches Lucy had installed, her client sat with one of her three cats in her lap. She stroked it absently as she closed her eyes and began to doze off.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t hand over the garden personally,” Lucy murmured, happy to know her client was enjoying what she’d created for her.

“Lucy.” Another Pam appeared in front of her, looking completely astonished. “Where have you been? Everyone is looking for you.” She glanced around at the garden and then saw herself dozing on the bench. “Oh, my goodness. What’s happening to me?”

“It’s a dream, Pam. We’re dreaming of each other, I think.” Lucy grew a little tearful now. “Are you well?”

“Yes, yes of course. The property is everything I’d hoped for and more. It’s just...” She stopped and grimaced. “I’m so sorry to tell you this, but the young man you were involved with in South Florida was murdered. The police believe the killer may have targeted you as well. You’ve been missing ever since that morning.”

So the voice in the dream had shown her the truth—taking her back to the fourteenth century had saved her life and Pam’s, but Justin had been murdered, too.

All must balance, the voice whispered from somewhere.

“I’m sorry I worried you.” Lucy ignored the voice as she reached out and took hold of her client’s hand. “I’m still alive, and safe. I just had to leave and go far away. I can’t tell anyone where I am, or come back.”