Love Beyond Time (Morna's Legacy Series) (9 page)

The second thing I recalled was the kiss at the end of the wedding. You would think that since I was staring at his eyes so intently, I would’ve seen it coming. I didn’t.

The impact of his lips on mine startled me so much that I tried to jerk away from him on instinct, but I was prevented by his hand, which touched the smallest part of my back and pulled me close to his chest. His right hand cupped the left side of my face as he moved his lips confidently against my own.

Part of me felt I should have stopped the kiss; I was kissing a total stranger, after all. But this was
my
stranger, whom I’d created, and my body betrayed me as fire coursed through my core, sending heat down to the farthest ends of my fingertips and toes.

I couldn’t breathe, and I parted my mouth to try and take in a breath, but his tongue deftly slipped inside, and instead of oxygen I breathed him in instead.

Had it not been for the roar of the guests, I think the kiss would have gone on much longer, but the noise from the crowd caused the laird to jerk away. As he did so, a look of utter frustration, almost anger, crossed his face. It confused me even more than I was already. His face hardly seemed to coincide with the kiss he’d just given me.

Thinking back on the kiss caused my temperature to rise, and my cheeks flushed as the sudden warmth of the memory washed over my body. I reached to lay my fingers against my cheek, hoping to cool them, when a voice to my left caused me to jump.

“Ye look beautiful, Blaire.”

I started to correct him, but quickly remembered that my name while I was in a coma was Blaire, not Bri. Instead I turned to him as he gently lay his hand upon my thigh and smiled as sweetly as I could.

I expected a smile in return, but instead I was rewarded with the same irritated expression I had seen right after the wedding. He stared at me briefly, ice shooting from his eyes, and then stood abruptly, pulling me up with him.

“Are ye ready to retire, lass? I know ye must be tired.”

I nodded as he quickly led me away from the dancing crowd.

I tried to keep pace with his stride, but the bottom of my dress kept getting in the way and instead I stumbled along, tripping with every other step. Each time I almost hit the ground, I found myself yanked up by his quick hands.
Couldn’t a girl make herself graceful in her own coma?
Not that it was surprising, I didn’t have much real-life experience when it came to grace, so I was certain my brain found it hard to dream up.

There was anger in the way he gripped me, which I couldn’t understand. What could I have possibly done to upset him? This was surely not the best way to start out a marriage. Perhaps this Blaire had done something before I arrived for which I was about to receive the punishment.

He continued his relentless pace, and as I blundered along behind him I realized that this didn’t seem like something I would dream. Scottish castle, yes. Scottish wedding, yes. Gorgeous husband, yes. Angry, Scottish brute . . . not so much.

The realization frightened me, and once I knew we were far enough away from the crowd to no longer be noticed, I jerked my hand away with all the force I could muster, causing him to release his grip.

“What are you doing?” I stopped walking and shook out my hand as I glared back at him, completely forgetting to speak in a Scottish accent. I didn’t care. My wrist was hurting, and I was frightened by the look in his eyes.

I felt my back press into the stone wall of the castle behind me, and he was on me before I had a chance to protest. His hands gripped my shoulders, effectively pinning me to the wall, and his nose was but a hair’s width from my own as he growled into my face.

“What am I doing? What about ye, Blaire? Ye have been moping about this castle since ye arrived, making no secret about how much ye detest me, and now ye show up at our wedding, smiling like a wee fool! Do ye think that ye can love me out of doors and then reject me when we’re alone? I already told ye once, Blaire, I’ll do right by ye, but I won’t be toyed with, Do ye understand, lass?”

My head was pounding as I watched him rant. He was angry, but there was more than just anger in his eyes. Confusion? Frustration? I couldn’t tell.

I didn’t understand much of what he was saying, and Mary’s story, the little she had explained, wasn’t coming to mind as I stood there with the muscles beneath his clothes pressed against my chest. His breath was sweet and warm against my face, and when he stopped talking I unthinkingly leaned forward and pressed my lips against his.

His response was immediate. His hands moved from my shoulders to the sides of my face as he cupped my cheeks in an effort to get closer. He growled into my mouth as his tongue sought entry, and I willingly opened myself up to him. His teeth grazed my lips, and I got the feeling that he was struggling to control his anger.

The painfully exquisite tug of his teeth on my lower lip caused my legs to turn to jelly as I melted against him, moving my lips against his in a furious dance of give-and-take. I heard myself moan as I pushed my body more tightly against him.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving me wanting and confused. He slid his hands to my shoulders, effectively pinning me to the stone wall and holding me at arm’s length away from him.

“Doona do that again, lass.” He paused to catch his breath and removed his left hand to run it through his hair. “Next time ye do something like that to me, I willna be stopping myself, and ye have already made it clear ye want nothing to do with me.”

The words escaped my mouth before I had time to rein them in. It was my dream after all. I could do what I wanted. “Don’t then.”

He stretched his arms out farther, locking his elbows into place and stared back at me. “What did ye just say, lass?”

Blood ran to my cheeks as embarrassment set in. I looked down and tried to remember the accent before I continued. It was too late to back down now. “Then, doona stop.” The words came out breathlessly, and in an uncharacteristic show of courage I reached up to pull his hand from my shoulder as I placed it on my breast. I shyly glanced up at him, “Please.”

He groaned and reached to grab my hand, pulling me swiftly along behind him once again.

* * *

The stranger slowly sat down his goblet, made his excuses to the villagers surrounding him and walked to the side of the castle, watching until he was sure the laird and his new wife had made their way up to their bedchamber.

He’d been given only two orders as he’d left Ramsay’s quarters; not be found out as a stranger at the wedding and to wait until the appropriate time to set the fire.

Pivoting his head, the stranger made sure all eyes around him were diverted elsewhere as he worked one of the flaming rods from their post and turned the flame so that it lay on the ground, slowly scorching and taking root over the grass that sat underneath its light.

Once the ground slowly caught flame, the stranger turned and walked away, mounting the horse he’d tied far away from everyone’s sight and rode as quickly as he could away from Conall Castle.

Chapter 12

I stumbled along as we entered the castle’s main doors, cursing the length of my dress as I went. He was moving just as quickly as he had before, and taking the stairs at this pace proved impossible. I slipped, almost busting my lip against the cold stone steps.

I yelped, but before the impact his hands were around my waist, lifting me off the floor.

“Sorry, lass.” He bent his head to plant a quick kiss on my lips as he carried me up the staircase.

Blushing once again, I allowed my head to fall against his chest.
God, he smells good. I have to remember to write every second of this down as soon as I wake up. I could live off of this dream for years.

“Doona fall asleep on me yet, lass.”

I threw my eyes open and squealed as he playfully pinched my bottom. This man was impossible to keep up with. His moods seemed to change rapidly, and this Blaire person had obviously done something to displease him greatly.

“We’re here, lass.” He carried me into the bedchamber, and I couldn’t help but inwardly chuckle at the fact that I was now living one of the covers of the various romance novels sitting on the shelves at my home. My subconscious was clearly pulling at things from previous fantasies.

Coma Husband sat me gently on my feet as he turned to close the chamber door.

I turned away from him to take in the room. Wood, stone, and furs surrounded me, all melding together to create the most sexy and masculine room I’d ever seen. I closed my eyes to breathe in the delicious scent of the room’s luscious materials just as Eoin flattened himself against my back, wrapping his arms around my waist.

He nuzzled his mouth against my neck, and I could feel his hot breath on the exposed skin at the top of my dress. My heart was racing with anticipation as he touched his lips to my neck, trailing kisses from my collarbone up to my ear. He nibbled it gently, and I reached my hand up behind me so that I could run my fingers into his hair.

His hands left my waist, and he followed the length of my arms with tender, light touches that sent tremors down my spine and caused my nipples to harden beneath the dress.

He must have known the effect it would have, for he immediately dropped his hands to cover my breasts, and I gasped at the sensation.

Moaning, I relaxed my head against his chest, pushing my breasts deeper into his hands, encouraging the touch of his skilled fingers.

He quickly undid the laces at the back of my gown and pulled my arms through the sleeves so that my breasts fell free, and the dress hung at the curve of my hips.

His breath was shaky against the back of my neck as he filled his hands with my bare skin. Instantly my own breathing accelerated, the touch of his rough, calloused hands against my tender nipples sending me spiraling.

“Ye’re beautiful, Blaire, and I apologize for leaving after ye arrived.”

“What?” I started to interject on impulse but was silenced by a sharp bite on my neck.

“Shhh . . . I know I was wrong to leave, but by God, Blaire, ye have given me grief since ye arrived, and I intend to make ye pay for it now.”

I squirmed underneath his tight grip, not enjoying the way his voice turned once again, but he tugged hard on my nipples and grazed the back of my neck with his teeth, and I couldn’t help the groan of pleasure that escaped my lips.

“I have no idea what’s caused such a change in ye, but I intend to make certain ye doona again decide I’m so displeasing.”

Who could possibly find this man displeasing?
I tried to make sense of his words.
What does he mean punish me? What’s he going to do, sex me to death? If I’m going to die in a dream, that seems the way to go.

He ran his hands up and down my waist, his cool hands sending hot shocks through my body. “I wanna feel ye squirm underneath my touch, Blaire, and have ye call out my name in answer to me. I’ll be the only man to touch ye, lass, and when I do take ye as my own, it will be because ye beg me to do so.”

I’d beg ya right now, if I thought I could form a coherent sentence.

I didn’t have a chance to ponder the thought further as he slid his hands down to the gown gathered at my hips. I watched it fall to the ground and bunch at my feet as he worked it over my curves.

“Ye have the softest, smoothest skin, Blaire. I wanna fill my hands with ye while ye tremble beneath me.”

Holy Mother of God
. I let my head fall against his chest, losing any strength I had to hold myself up as I lost myself in the sensation of his hands thumbing my nipples. I moaned as one of his hands slipped in between my thighs.

“God, Blaire. I want ye. And ye want me too, lass.” He firmly cupped me in between my legs as if to emphasize this point.

His hot, ragged breath against my ear sent delicious pinpricks down my spine. I tightened my grip around his neck in an effort to hold myself up as he started to move his fingers in between my legs.

The breath left my body in a sudden rush as one of his arms tightened underneath my breasts, effectively lifting my feet so that they dragged along the floor as he backed himself up against the door. He held me there, so that I was prevented from placing any weight on the floor, with my back pressed flush against his front.

He continued to move his fingers quickly. Each flick sent shockwaves, causing me to gasp for air and arch my back. I was prevented from doing either as his arm underneath my breasts held me so tightly that I could hardly breathe. The lack of oxygen seemed to intensify the feeling building deep in my belly as he continued the relentless rhythm that pushed me closer and closer to shattering in his hands.

The room twisted itself into a swirl of colors, and heat washed over me as I briefly hoped that I wasn’t making these noises in my sleep. I was having trouble thinking, everything pushed away by the exquisite feeling building between my thighs.

The lack of oxygen was too much, and just as I feared, I could take no more or I would lose consciousness once again, I exploded around his deft fingers. Every muscle in my body relaxed, and I went limp in his arms, trembling as the aftershocks rocked through my core.

He spun me around so that I faced him, and I swayed on my feet as he released me from his grip. Instinctively, I reached out to steady myself, placing my hands on his firm chest.

He leaned forward then, surprising me with his gentle kiss. The sweetness of it seemed odd following the aggressive way he had just explored my body, but once again I had no time to ponder the thought as he began to speak.

“Do ye still think I’m so displeasing?”

He stared at me, a look of teasing amusement playing in his eyes.

I still seemed incapable of forming an intelligible response, so I simply managed a sly smile as I struggled to regulate my breathing. Whatever drugs the hospital was pumping through my veins, I wanted to stay on them for life.

“Come on, lass, let’s go to bed. Ye look as if ye might fall over.”

I followed as he gently tugged on my hands, leading me to the bed across the chamber.