“But you do,” she whispered. “It’s…not how I planned my trip to Scotland, but…the surprise is awesome, I guess. Fulfills the purpose of my visit, really. In more ways than you could know.”
Eoin swallowed and fell into her fathomless brown eyes. His Ashlyn was so sincere, so forgiving when he was so wrong. He would grant her anything in his power. He wanted to. More than that, he needed to.
She’d forgiven him.
She really was a gift.
“I make ye a vow, lass.” His heart sped up, and it took all he was made of to stand there and say what he was thinking. Words he didn’t want to be true, but they had to be.
For his Ashlyn. Because he couldn’t be an honorless bastard. Any longer than he’d already been.
“A vow?”
Wisps of her blonde hair had escaped the fancy style one of the lasses had done for her that morning, and his fingers itched to caress them, tuck them behind her ear, or yank the pins out so he could see the golden waves free, dancing about. Run his hands through the thick locks and bring her closer.
Taste her mouth. Take her.
“Aye.” Eoin forced a nod. “When yer done wit’ wha’ever ye need here, I’ll take ye back. Ta yer own time.”
Even though it’ll kill me to see you walk away.
The strength of his feelings made no sense. He’d seen this lass at the pub in twenty-first century Inverness, then brought her back home on what? A whim?
He inhaled, but it didn’t make his head stop spinning. His grandfather’s voice popped into his head with that dreaded word.
Fate.
Ashlyn arched an eyebrow and studied him. She pursed her lips, then sucked in an audible breath. “Okay.”
He couldn’t stop watching her mouth, and he needed to. Being here in his rooms, by his bed, was worse than watching her eat sweet bread. Too much to resist. He wanted to rip his sister’s gown off her.
She stepped closer and his cock twitched.
Closer was bad, too tempting, but he wouldn’t have moved away if an enemy had had a sword in his back.
“So, you’re promising that this is all on my terms?”
Eoin nodded, his eyes sliding to how her breasts moved up and down in the corset when she breathed.
“Okay,” Ashlyn repeated.
Her voice drew his gaze back to her face. Her cheeks were flushed with color again.
His thoughts scattered because her breasts heaved once more. Damn, he needed to kiss her.
“Can you…show me to my room?”
He jumped—then cursed himself to hell and back. “Aye.”
She smiled.
His heart skipped and he had to swallow. Do not touch her. If he did, he wouldn’t be showing her anywhere but to his own bed, and Eoin couldn’t. That certainly wouldn’t be something on her terms.
He’d made more than one vow to his Ashlyn this night.
She walked ahead of him after he led her through the door. A helpful servant—probably Nessie—had lit the fire in the hearth, so the room was warm and had a welcoming glow. It was smaller than his, but he’d always liked this chamber.
The furniture was dark wood, matching his own, but it had feminine touches in the carvings, and it wasn’t so oversized, like what was in the laird’s suite.
He remembered afternoons here, spending time snuggled in his mother’s arms when he was a wee laddie. She’d had a wonderful laugh, his mother. Fiona’s smile looked just like Lady Eleanor’s. ‘Twas a shame his sister had never gotten to know the woman who’d birthed them. She’d been quiet and loving, and he missed her.
“This quilt is beautiful!” Ashlyn caressed the fluffy bedding, which consisted of a MacLeod tartan stuffed and embroidered with heathers and thistles.
“My mother made it.”
Silence fell as she whirled and stood by the bed, wringing her hands in front of her. Then she jerked them behind her. “Umm, I think I can take it from here. Good night, Eoin. Sleep well.”
He forced his head to nod. “If ye need anathin’, ye doona have ta knock. Come ta me.”
“I will.”
Eoin practically fled the room, almost tripping over his feet. He needed to retreat and stop imagining Ashlyn undressing, or donning the sleeping gown folded on the trunk at the end of the bed that had been his mother’s.
Thoughts of his mother should cool his ardor regarding the honey-haired lass, but it didn’t. He remembered every inch of Ashlyn’s bare skin against his when he’d held her in the cave of the Faery Stones. The taste of her kiss preoccupied him, and he wanted to experience it again. And so much more.
He shut the adjoining door with a resounding thud.
His fingers made quick work of his belt, and he slid the plaid from around his waist. Normally he slept in the nude, but he didn’t dare with Ashlyn so close, so he pulled soft short pants from his trunk and slipped them on. He tossed the yellow leine, then remembered it was Angus’, and folded it. Set it on his trunk with a mental note to have Nessie or Peg return it to his grandfather after laundering.
Eoin didn’t expect to sleep. He was half-aroused, his cock making itself known with his every movement. The organ wasn’t concerned with sorting through the chaos in his head about Ashlyn. It just wanted her. To be inside her.
He turned down his bedding with a sigh.
The knock on the connecting made him freeze.
“Eoin?” Ashlyn’s soft call penetrated the wood panel.
“Come,” he called. His heart and his manhood jolted with the door’s creak when she pushed her way into his room.
Her eyes raked his frame and she stilled, stopping right inside. “Oh. You’re already ready for bed. I’m sorry—”
Eoin stepped away from his bed. “What’s wrong, Ashlyn?” He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. He should say it more often.
She shuddered and rubbed her arm.
“Lass?” he whispered.
“I, um…I…can’t get out of this dress. Alone.”
Oh. Shite.
He was about to come out of his own skin. Eoin should call some of the lasses. He shouldn’t— “C’mere, lass, an’ I shall help ye.” The words were his own, but they were so wrong. They couldn’t be helped.
“I’m sorry for asking, the ties are on the back, I tried…” She shrugged, and it lifted her tempting breasts yet again.
“‘Tis fine.” He gestured and Ashlyn obeyed, giving him her back so he could open the corset.
He subtly sucked in air, bidding his head to stop spinning. Her shoulders were already bare, and he longed to lean down and taste her skin. His fingers shook when he reached for the green ribbon. He fumbled but got the job done as best he could.
She lifted her hands, holding the loosening fabric to the front of her body, and he wanted to beg her to let it drop to the floor.
“Thanks,” Ashlyn whispered. She turned and spared Eoin a glance that resulted in their gazes locking. She swallowed and the need to kiss her throat burned.
“Anathin’ fer ye, lass.” Even to his own ears, his voice was lower, full of desire.
She flushed and fidgeted, pinning the green fabric over her perfect breasts. “Good night, my laird.” His lass retreated to the lady’s chamber, but her parting phrase had him hard and aching.
He couldn’t move. Eoin stared at the door she’d left ajar.
Go to bed, you wretch.
Before he could assure himself of the idiot he was, the adjoining panel swung open again.
Ashlyn stood before him, her hair long and loose, wearing nothing but the ivory sleeping gown. The light behind her from the hearth gave her a golden aura that sucked away his breath.
His heart thundered and his blood rushed south. If he’d wanted her before, the yearning was now tenfold. His cock ached, and he wasn’t wearing a leine or plaid to hide it. He didn’t dare glance down. His short pants were no doubt tented. “Ashlyn?” Her name fell from his mouth.
“Eoin…I…” She worried her bottom lip. “I don’t want to be alone. Can I sleep with you?”
God’s blood, I’m doomed.
****
Ashlyn called herself every weak name she could think of.
Was she really standing there, begging a guy she’d met less than twenty-four hours ago to sleep with him?
As in share his bed, not his body. Although she couldn’t deny she wanted him.
Eoin wasn’t wearing anything except a pair of ivory shorts that stopped at his knees. They clung to his powerful thighs. The closest thing to eighteenth century boxers there were.
Her eyes trailed his body, making note of what she’d seen before; huge pecs dotted with black curls, a happy trail dividing an eight-pack and disappearing into the fabric at his waist. Springy coarse hair continuing down his legs. And…he was aroused.
She tried not to gulp.
Turn around. Go back to the other room. Tell him never mind.
Ashlyn couldn’t have sex with him.
What would he say if she told him no? He was obviously ready.
“Aye.” His voice was thicker than normal, but when Eoin gestured to the bed, it was as if his hand commanded her bare feet.
She went to him in silence, feeling naked despite the chemise that fell to her ankles and had long sleeves. A higher neckline than the one she’d worn beneath Fiona’s gown. Ashlyn had nothing on under it.
Watching his Adam ’s apple bob told her he was struggling. Holding himself back.
Is that good or bad?
Tingles darted all over her body. She wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. He’d never hurt her, she’d felt that from the start. But if he stole a kiss, she’d be a goner. Unable to tell him no. She’d give herself to him in a heartbeat, and that made Ashlyn feel…out of control.
Why doesn’t it feel wrong? I don’t know him.
“Thank you.” The whisper fell from her lips and she moved past him to climb onto the fat feather mattress. She heard a groan behind her and the back of her neck went hot enough to combust. She’d just pulled a crawling-on-all-fours with Eoin behind her. Inadvertently given him a show. Hopefully all that fabric covered her ass.
He didn’t say anything, but there was a lot of grunting before he joined her in the bed, and he placed his body as far from her as physically possible. On the far edge.
She was making him uncomfortable in his own bed, but she didn’t want to leave.
Awkwardness settled over them, and Ashlyn spared him a glance. Tried to smile. “What happens while I’m here?”
Eoin cleared his throat and turned on his side, facing her. He bent his arm and propped his head up with his palm, and she couldn’t help but watch the play of his defined muscles as he moved. “Wha’ d’ye mean?”
“To my time. I’m…worried about Kate. She’s going to freak when I’m not there…what happened? I don’t remember.” She frowned.
“I put ye both ta sleep with magic. Doona worry, I placed her in tha cottage in bed. She’s safe.”
“You followed us!” Ashlyn poked his chest.
His expression was half-amused, half-embarrassed. “Aye,” he confessed. “My magic confirmed ye had tha Flag.”
“You knew it was in my painting?”
He smirked. “My paintin’.”
Ashlyn stuck her tongue out, but froze when his eyes slid to her lips and stayed. She swallowed, but it didn’t help; her mouth had gone dry. She had to pant to breathe.
“I…” He leaned forward as he trailed off, giving her the chance to retreat.
She didn’t.
Ashlyn closed the distance between them and pressed her mouth to his. He took it from there, drawing her into his chest and pushing his tongue deep, touching hers tentatively.
This kiss wasn’t like the other two; it was softer, gentler, perhaps a question. She wrapped her tongue around his and slid her arms around his neck. She answered his query with a resounding ‘yes’. Moved closer, kissing him harder.
Eoin’s hands made their way down her back, aligning their bodies until he was kneading her bottom and pressing his erection into her stomach. He tugged the chemise up, up, up. In seconds his hands would be on her bare skin. His fingertips brushed the back of her thighs, and Ashlyn shivered.
She moaned, but the cautious part of her brain piped up and told her to move away before things got farther than she could handle. She broke their kiss on a whimper, and stared into his eyes. Put her hands on his bare chest and felt the thundering of his heart. “I’m sorry. We just met. I-I-I…can’t.” Not yet anyway. But she couldn’t tell him that.
If he was disappointed, he hid it well. “Lass—”
“Maybe I should just go to the other room.”
“Nay. Nay.” His pecs heaved against her as he inhaled. “I wish ye ta stay. I willna force ye.”
“I know,” Ashlyn whispered. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Never.”
Silence descended and she hollered at herself to move out of the circle of his arms. She couldn’t make herself go. Ashlyn quivered.
“Are ye cold?”
She shook her head. “Not with you holding me.”
“Good.”
She needed a distraction, and he’d never answered her. “So, what happens to my time while I’m here?”
“I will return ye ta tha moment I took ye, an’ nothin’ will be fer tha worse.”
“Ah. Will I remember?”
“Aye, unless you wish otherwise.”
“What d’you mean?”
Eoin’s gaze roved her face and made her heart skip. “I could make ye ferget. Wit’ magic, if ye wished it.”
I would never want to forget you. Besides, that’d make her wish to research irrelevant. “Oh.” Ashlyn bit her bottom lip. She heard a soft groan and stilled against him.
He flashed a small smile. It looked strained.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go?”
“I want ye wit’ me.”
She swallowed again. Ashlyn wanted to be with him. In more ways than she had courage for. “Okay.”
“Close yer eyes, Ash, go ta sleep.”
His use of her nickname made her pause, but she couldn’t help her smile. A small pang made her miss Kate. “You’re sure everything will be okay…there…with me here?”
“Aye, lass.” His words were low, and when she glanced up at him, he’d shut his eyes. He rolled to his back, but kept her pinned to his side, with his arm around her.
Ashlyn stared at Eoin’s handsome face until his breathing fell into a deep and even rhythm. Her belly fluttered. Warmth, from his body where it touched hers, as well as the feeling of safety. Nothing could happen to her if she stayed in his arms.
Is this my fate?
She was afraid of the answer, so she left the question dangling in her mind.