The Pleasure Master (33 page)

But nothing lasts forever. She knew that as she lay beside Ian minutes later, listening to her own breathing fill the silence. She didn't speak any words of love because no matter what they'd just shared, centuries still stretched between them, keeping them apart as surely as a wall of steel. And still some pitiful part of her hoped he'd knock down that wall.

Silence.

She stared at the candles that were sputtering and dying. “Coco gave me three quotes today that might send me home.”

“Aye. Ye'll be anxious to leave then?” His voice was empty, disembodied.

Stop me. Tell me you never want me to leave.
“I guess so.”

Eventually, as she watched the three candles flicker out, leaving her in darkness as empty as her hopes for the future, she realized he'd never say the words. Like the candles, her three quotes would quench the only light in her life.

But she'd make love with him again. Before she left, she'd feel that total completeness one more time. She swore it.

And from the darkness beyond the room, Burt Lancaster's voice reached her.

“We just don't recognize the most significant moment of our lives while they're happening. Back then I thought, ‘Well, there'll be other days . . .' I didn't realize that that was the only day.”

Ian swept his damp hair away from his face and shivered. He must be truly daft to climb from his bed and the warmth of Kathy's side to bathe in the burn. ‘Twas as cold as the devil's heart this morning, and the mist lay heavy on the hills. It reminded him much of the day Kathy came to him.

But ‘twas Kathy's leaving that worried him now. Why had he not confessed his love last night? Mayhap because he'd had no practice. He'd never spoken of love to anyone in his whole life. If he'd told his mother, he'd forgotten, and after she'd allowed his father to take him, he'd much doubted her love for him.

Kathy was right. His trust of others was weak. But his trust in himself was weaker.

If he told Kathy he loved her, and she returned
his love, he'd be tempted to go with her when she returned to her . . . land. This he could not do. She would have no use for a Highlander who understood nothing of her ways, and he knew her distaste for men who had been with many women. She'd enjoyed joining with him, but she would not want him as husband, and he would accept nothing less after last night. ‘Twas better to say nothing; in time the hurt would go away.
And if ye believe that ye're a fool, Ian Ross.

As he strode into his living area, he could hear Kathy humming. Her voice led him to the Pleasure Master's bed. Surprised, he halted in the doorway.

Kathy sat cross-legged on the bed with several small pots beside her. Carefully, she was painting a scene to fill the empty space. Moving closer, he peered at what she'd done so far.

His quiet hiss of astonishment caught her attention. She glanced at him and grinned. “Hey, I painted a mean picture in high school. You know, that empty space always bothered me, but now I know it was waiting for our picture. What we did last night was a memory of a lifetime. It belongs here.” Her smile turned satisfied. “And there's no more space. We'll be the last.”

Recovering from his shock, Ian returned her smile. “Aye, ye've done the right thing. But ye've left something out.”

Puzzled, she studied the picture. “Like what?”

“All who see the picture must know ye. I look very much like my great grandfather, so none will mistake me. But none will recognize ye. I would
have ye add something that will tell all that Kathy Bartlett is a special woman.”

“Okay, I'm open to suggestions.”

He moved close. “Paint the wee crown here”—he touched the bare inner thigh of the woman in the painting and noted Kathy's thighs clenching even through her skirt—“so all may know ye're a princess.”

She returned her gaze to her work, and he couldn't see her expression.

“Thank you, Ian Ross.”

He didn't need to see her face. He could hear the tears in her voice.

He wondered.

“It's done. What do you think, Ian?” Kathy moved away from the bed to stand beside him in the doorway.

“Ye've taken a long time to finish, but 'tis wondrous.”

He reached for her hand and rubbed his thumb over her palm to remove a small spot of color, then clasped her hand in his. He squeezed gently. “'Tis almost night, and I didna like the time ye took from me to finish the painting, but 'twill serve as a memory when—” He couldn't say it, couldn't bring into the open his fear of what he'd feel when she left.

She leaned into him, wrapping her free arm around his waist, burying her face against his chest. He could feel her breath even through his clothing, hot against his skin like a blazing caress.

“I guess I shouldn't have filled up the whole
space on the bed, because now I won't have any room to paint other scenes . . . of other times.”

The sound of running footsteps swung Ian around. Without thinking, he pushed Kathy behind him. His taking by the Mackays had made him more cautious.

She moved from behind him as Neil and his father rushed into view.

This was it then. He could sense the trouble they brought with them and knew that only danger would cause them to hurry so.

Neil spoke to Ian, but his gaze was focused on Kathy. “The Mackays are coming and some from our clan have joined them. I saw our Maeve with Fiona. ‘Twas only because Father came home and wished to meet Kathy that we were on our way here. They've drunk overmuch, probably to give them courage, and are shouting that they will take the witch. Ye must send Kathy home.”

Kathy's gaze locked with Ian's, and he saw the denial, the refusal to accept what Neil said.

His heart shouted its agony at what he must do next. For Kathy. “Ye must return to where we first met and say the quotes Coco gave ye. Take Peter and the toys ye brought. They may put the fear of the devil into the Mackays. I'll remain here to meet them. Fiona's need to capture me may give ye extra time.”

“No!”

Kathy's cry reached into his soul and ripped it from his body. Though the rest of his life might be
meaningless, he must find the strength to send her away.

But even if it condemned him to the fires Father Gregory swore awaited him, he could not let Kathy go without her knowing one thing. This only would he do for himself. “Ye canna gainsay me in this, lass. I would know that ye returned safely to yer own . . . time.”

He saw the exact moment she understood what he promised her—his trust, his
love.
Now and beyond the reach of time.

Wonder glistened in her eyes, followed closely by a challenging tilt of her head. God's teeth, he'd forgotten she was not of a soft and submissive nature.

“Forget it. I'm not leaving. I love you, Ian Ross, and I'm staying right here with you. I'll reason with Fiona, but if that doesn't work I'll do some serious physical damage.” The determined glint in her eyes dared him to refuse her.

“Ye canna stay, Kathy. Ye must go to court to defend yerself against old PMS. Ye must return to yer parents, to yer . . . coffee.”

Clenching her hands into fists by her sides, she defied him. “I don't give a tinker's curse about my ex-husband. My parents will accept my decision, and I don't know how I'll survive without coffee, but dammit you're worth caffeine withdrawal. Take that, Ian Ross.”

Dinna make me do this.
“Can I say nothing to change yer mind?”

“Nothing.”

He breathed out a harsh breath of inevitability.
“Neil, take Kathy to the place we met. Take all her things wi' her.”

Neil nodded, picked up Kathy's purse, backpack, and bag of toys, then wrapped his free arm firmly around her waist. “'Tis for yer own good, lass.” His gruffness betrayed his regret.

She seemed suddenly to realize that Neil really intended to drag her away. Twisting and kicking, she fought him. “Don't do this, Ian. I didn't travel back more than four hundred years to find you, only to lose you like this. Please, let me stay.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, slid down her face.

Ian knew what those tears cost her. She'd let him see her tears only a few times, but he'd always remember these she cried now at her leaving. It was fitting. He wished he could find release in tears, but he found that he was truly a creature of his time. Men of the Highlands didn't cry.

Narrowing his gaze, he focused on where Malin lay atop Peter. In one stride, he reached Malin, scooped him up, and placed him in the crook of Neil's arm. “'Tis sorry I am to be burdening ye so, Neil, but I would know that Malin is safe. The Mackays have drunk too much and would take great joy in destroying anything belonging to me.”

Neil nodded and began dragging Kathy toward the tunnel.

“Wait!” The thunderous command came from Ian's father, who'd stood forgotten while Ian's world collapsed around him. “My son didna introduce us, but I am Duncan, Ian's father.” He moved
to stand in front of Kathy, who'd grown still at his approach.

“I would thank ye for giving my son that which I failed to give him.” He reached out to place his hand gently on her shoulder. “Ye gave him yer love, and for that I'll always remember ye. Go now.”

Kathy shifted her gaze back to Ian. She no longer fought Neil's grasp. “Ian, I swore I'd never ask this of you, never be this selfish, but I guess love makes people greedy and selfish.” Her weak attempt at a smile made him swallow hard. “Come home with me. We can watch movies in the dark and eat popcorn, dive from an airplane . . . make love forever. I can even get you legal papers. People will do anything for good hair.”

The temptation.
He might miss the Highlands and the people he'd known all his life, but the missing was nothing compared to the tearing pain of losing Kathy. “Go and be safe, Kathy Bartlett. Know that I will think of ye every day of my life.”

“My necklace. I won't leave without my necklace.” Her voice was small and for the first time, she sounded defeated.

Wordlessly, he picked up the shell necklace from beside the hearth and walked to her. He slipped it over her head, felt for the last time the slide of her hair against his fingers, the warmth of her skin. Calling on every bit of courage passed down from his great grandfather, he turned from her.

Behind him, Peter's amber lights blinked frantically. “I was born when you kissed me. I died when you left. I lived a few weeks while you loved me.”

“I don't think Humphrey Bogart's going to help, Peter.” Kathy's voice was a small sob of despair.

“Go wi' her, ye wee troublemaker, and see her safely home.”
And I thank ye for bringing her to me so that I could know love in my life.

She gazed at him one last time. “Take the leap, Ian. It's like when I jump from a plane. In that moment, I trust the parachute will open to catch me. I'll always be there to catch you.”

He listened as her footsteps echoed down the tunnel, fading with each second, leaving him alone forever. Peter determinedly trundled after her.

And when he thought her finally gone, her call carried faintly to him. “Come home with me, Ian. I'll wait for you.”

Home. He glanced around his cave. It would never be home again.

“Come. We will meet the Mackays before they reach here. They willna touch the Pleasure Master wi' me beside ye.” His father started toward the tunnel.

Something was building in Ian, something explosive and defiant. “'Tis a title I no longer claim nor want. Neil is the new Pleasure Master.” He paced before the hearth with growing resolve.

“I loooove you.”

The voice was faint. Startled, Ian glanced toward the sound. Kathy had forgotten Suzy. And even though he didn't understand exactly how Suzy worked, he understood that she was dying. But she'd lived long enough to say the words he'd found so hard to say his whole life, the words he hadn't
said to Kathy, the words he suddenly knew he
had
to say.

He turned to face his father. “I'm leaving. I find I canna let her go home wi'out me. 'Tis sorry I am for what I said to ye when ye married. I understand now, and . . .”
Say the words that need saying, Ross.
“I . . . love ye, Father.”

Something in his father's face softened. “As do I, son. I should've told ye when ye were a wee laddie, but I didna think it right to show such emotion. My Meg taught me how wrong I was. I dinna understand much about yer Kathy, but I ken she loves ye, and 'tis a gift ye shouldna turn from.” He grasped his son's shoulders and pulled him into a hard embrace, then released him. “Go wi' God, son.”

Ian nodded, unable to find words, knowing all that was important had been said. Turning, he strode away from the man who'd made him the Pleasure Master.

Running from the cave, he didn't even glance back. That part of his life was over. For a moment, he thought of getting his horse, but it would take too much time, and he could hear the drunken yells of the Mackays in the distance.
Dinna let Kathy leave me. Please.
He didn't know whom he was begging—a wee metal demon, or a God who must be having a great laugh at his expense.

He was gasping by the time he reached the hill, but he drew in a deep, steadying breath as he looked up, fearful of what he'd see. Kathy was barely visible through the thickening mist. With a
last burst of energy, he raced up the hill and pulled her into his embrace.

“You came. You came.” Her words whispered through him just as her tears dampened his shirt, her heat seeped into his soul, her love lit up his heart.

“I love ye, Kathy of Hair, and I wish to fly in yer sky machine wi' ye. Then we will fall from the sky together.” He buried his face in her hair as he murmured the words.

“We'll never fall, Ian Ross. You'll always take me higher.” She raised her face to him.