Page 136 of Dark Lover

He was moving toward her. His eyes widened as he entered her.

Sam choked, overcome by the pressure within her, and the immediate tide of pleasure that began to rise. But he paused. She knew she flushed. She hadn’t been fishing, had she? She didn’t expect him to love her back—or did she?

His eyes blazed and, too late, she knew he’d heard her. She started to press at his chest, to keep him back, but he withdrew and then drove deep, forcing her other leg up and around his waist. And as he began to thrust long and slow, the sense of belonging was so consuming that Sam held him and surrendered to the moment and the man. She really loved Ian Maclean.

She was ready to shatter.

He pulled her head back and their gazes met. “Thank ye,” he said roughly. “Fer not runnin’ out on me.”

She somehow smiled and then she gave up. She couldn’t stand the love and joy, the desire. She gave herself over to the incredible force inside her, the incredible pressure building, the first wave of pleasure, and he kissed her.

He kissed her like it was the first time, the last time, the only time. Sam rode his waist and kissed him back exactly the same way.

TABBY PAUSED in the loft she used to share with Sam, overcome with so many memories of the times she’d spent there with her sister. Macleod put his arm around her. “I ken ye’ll always miss her.”

She looked up at his breathtaking face. “I have no regrets. Not one.”

He studied her for a moment. “Even if ye did, I’d never let ye go.”

Tabby smiled, when another woman would be annoyed or angered by his controlling nature. It had been hard, at first, to get used to being with such a ruthless, chauvinistic, medieval man. But every passionate argument had always ended with even more passionate lovemaking—and a deeper understanding of and greater love for one another. They were two souls drawn to one another like magnets, and he knew it as well as she did.

“There are no regrets, but I am worried,” Tabby said softly. “Until Ian Maclean sees the light, can she count on him?”

“He will be there for her,” Macleod said flatly. “He willna ken why, but he willna turn his back on her if she is in danger.”

“Brie has to be wrong. About Moray,” she added, hating having to speak the name aloud.

Macleod was silent but she heard his every thought. In the twenty-five years since Brie had come to live with Aidan at Castle Awe, she’d been wrong exactly one time about her visions.

Tabby walked across the large interior of the loft. Sam kept the chest at the far end locked, but Tabby still had her key, which she wore on her girdle with the other manor keys. She unlocked the chest and lifted the lid, crying out as she saw her beloved crystals. She ran her hands over every one before turning to smile at Macleod.

He shook his head, bemused. “Will ye take them home with us?”

She had dozens of powerful crystals at Blayde. “No. Sam might need them one day.”

“Her Fate is Maclean.”

“Yes, I believe he is her Fate. But I’m not willing to speculate as to when and where they will live out their lives.”

“He’s as medieval as I am,” Macleod pointed out, amused.

Tabby smiled, unconvinced. Sam had met her Fate, she was certain, just as she had more than two centuries ago. Sam would always be a Slayer, but Tabby was thrilled that she would now have Ian Maclean at her side. He wasn’t a Master, but he had power and he cared.

If Moray was back, they needed all the help they could get.

Macleod became sober, and so did she as they shared a look and their thoughts.

So much was still about to happen, if Brie were not wrong. “I was there,” she said slowly. “We all were, except for Sam and you. Brie, Allie, Claire and I vanquished Moray. Aidan destroyed his physical body. We watched his soul vanish into the universe. It looked as if his black energy scattered.”

“An’ if it dinna vanish?”

“Then I will find the right spell to do what we failed to do twenty-five years ago,” Tabby said simply.

“Tabitha,” he objected. “I ken yer power, but the burden now is far too great fer a single woman.”

“No, it’s not. I’m a Rose, Guy. Maybe it’s up to me to save this particular day.”

He crossed the room. “Yer the most stubborn of women an’ I love ye so much fer it. But I willna allow ye to have this great burden alone.” He was firm. “Are ye sure it can’t wait till dawn?” He pulled her close, his eyes warm.