She stood by the window, rubbing her arm as she looked outside into the empty bailey. Ashlyn’s eyes darted to the guarded gates of Dunvegan.
Fiona had been right there by those gates hours that felt like days ago. After her wedding, her new husband and his family had taken the girl to her new home, the MacDonald stronghold Armadale, on the other side of Skye.
She’d been so ecstatic. Had hugged her so hard, and told her to be happy with her brother.
Too bad Ashlyn couldn’t.
After the feast, Eoin had practically dragged her to his rooms. They’d been so eager for each other their clothing was still strewn all over the floor.
He’d made love to her so tenderly, worshipping her body, and with so much emotion in those sapphire eyes, she’d expected words that had never come.
That was for the better, or so she’d been trying to convince herself.
Eoin had looked like he’d wanted to say something a few times, but hadn’t. Each time he’d kissed her instead, and she hadn’t had the guts to explore her suspicions.
After he’d fallen asleep, Ashlyn had cried. She’d cried so hard it was a wonder she’d not woken him, but her laird had lain peacefully beside her. When she’d drifted off, she’d dreamt of home—the far future where he wouldn’t be.
She’d woken with a start. It was early, and she’d drawn the drapes back in anticipation of watching the sun rise, but it hadn’t just yet. Light was creeping slowly over the horizon as if afraid to make itself known. The in-between time, when it wasn’t light but wasn’t night anymore. Fat white clouds made the sky a murky dark gray, hinting at morning rain. It was dreary, but that fit her mood perfectly.
Fiona’s marriage had confirmed something she’d been avoiding.
It’s time.
Ashlyn shivered. Probably should’ve put more clothing on than Eoin’s leine. It fell mid-thigh but wasn’t keeping her warm in the drafty castle. The fire had gone out sometime overnight. Her bare feet were already ice cubes on the stone floor, but she couldn’t talk herself into getting back into that big bed with the man who’d stolen her heart.
“Ashlyn-lass?” Eoin called.
His soft voice shouldn’t have startled her, but she jumped. Squeezed her eyes shut, too.
“Why’re ye by the window? Arena ye cold?”
The slap of his feet on the floor told her he’d gotten up.
He padded to her, then Ashlyn was enveloped in warmth—he’d put the plaid from his bed around her shoulders. It still held his body heat, and she wanted to burrow into it, and into him.
“It’s time for me to go.” She didn’t turn and look at him. Couldn’t. Should thank him for the blanket, but she couldn’t do that, either.
“Go?”
The rustling of fabric told her he was pulling on a garment. “Home. To my time.” She stared out the window hard, as if the imminent sun could save her. Her heart was a brick in her stomach, and her everything hurt.
“Ashlyn—”
“I can’t be here anymore.” She sucked in a breath and held it. Ashlyn couldn’t add that she couldn’t be there with him, kiss him, make love to him, and not be able to keep him.
“I’ve been wantin’ ta talk ta abou’ tha’—”
Alarm washed over her, and she finally whirled to him. It’d taken her all night to work up the nerve to face going home. He’d better not ruin it. She couldn’t stay. “What’s to talk about? You promised. When I was ready. My terms, remember?”
“Aye.” Eoin nodded and came closer, but she slid away. He was only wearing shorts, so he had to be cold, too.
If he touched her it’d be bad. “I know a lot of women in your family have come back in time and stayed…” Ashlyn’s voice cracked and she had to take another breath. “But I can’t be like those other women, Eoin.” Pain threatened to cripple her with the confession she’d never intended to say. It was the truth, which made it worse. She didn’t want to look at him and see the hurt in his eyes, but she had to make her gaze meet his. “I…have to go back. My life is writing. My career. I finally made it. I can’t live without it.”
“I understand.”
She blinked. “Wh-what?”
He’d let her go like that? Without a fight?
Isn’t that what you wanted? You already reminded him of his promise. Idiot.
Wouldn’t it make it easier if he just agreed?
No. Because it was already going to kill Ashlyn to walk away from him. It’d be worse if he was okay with the end of…them.
Eoin slid forward and cupped her face, stroking her cheekbones with his thumbs, wreaking havoc on her concentration. His sapphire eyes were impossibly soft.
She couldn’t look away, or ask him to stop touching her for her own sanity. She was compelled, as if by magic, to stand there.
“I’ll go wit’ ye.”
Ashlyn startled, even in his gentle grip. “Wh-wh-what?”
“I want ye fer keeps, Ashlyn George.”
She fought the urge to close her eyes as her whole name in his brogue destroyed her resolve to stay strong. Tears were born and scalded her cheeks as they slid down. “I…”
“I’ve alreada spoken ta my grandfa. He agrees.”
“But you have responsibilities here. To Angus. Fiona, too. She adores you even if she’s married now. Your clan. You’re the laird.”
His smile made her belly flutter. “I’m nothin’ wit’ou’ ye, lass.” This was low, but direct.
“I can’t…let you walk away from your family.” Ashlyn’s voice wavered. She wanted to cling to him and demand his vow on what he was saying.
That’s selfish.
“Ash, mò gradh, I’m nothin’ wit’ou’ ye. No’ a laird worth a damn. No’ a man worth anathin’.”
Mò gradh. It meant my love, and Eoin had never called her that before.
Her heart stumbled, and she tried to smile, but guilt swarmed. She wasn’t willing to walk away from her career for him. A career, not a family. How could she let him leave his clan, his blood—not to mention he’d be stepping into the future, where he knew next to nothing about how to live.
“I love ye, lass.”
The declaration was everything she’d always wanted, so why did Ashlyn feel like shit?
A sob rushed up and she covered her mouth. Perfect, ugly crying now, in front of the love of her life, when he’d confessed his feelings for the first time. “Eoin—” she choked out.
He guided them to the big bed and whispered sweet nothings in Gaelic, then wiped her tears away, and gathered her in to his chest as they sat.
She buried her face against Eoin’s neck, because she didn’t have the balls to look at him. She was going to have to tell him no, and leave him in 1755.
Maybe even deny that she loved him, too.
How could she watch him open the Faery Stones and step through the portal without him? She’d be weeping so hard she couldn’t stand, let alone walk.
She had no delusions about herself. She was a huge baby. A wimp. A girl who lived with her head in books.
Eoin rubbed her back and held her until she could get it together, because yeah, she needed a reminder of how awesome he was.
“I love you, too!” Ashlyn blurted. Then cursed herself to hell and back.
Why did you say that?
It would just make things harder.
“Look a’ me, mò gradh.”
She couldn’t have disobeyed even if she’d wanted to. Tenderness and heat…and love swirled around in his gaze, and her heart shot into overdrive.
“My fate is wit’ ye. My fate…‘tis tha future.”
She swallowed. “I…I want to say yes. But, I don’t want you to resent me in a few years. What if—”
Eoin put his fingertips to her lips. “I willna. I couldna ever begrudge ye.” He wiped more tears away and smiled so big her insides combusted. “Ye…love me, mò gradh?”
“Well, of course, you big lug.” She slapped his chest.
His chuckle washed over her and made Ashlyn smile through her tears.
He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles, then pressed a hard fast kiss to her mouth. “I’ve thought abou’ it, lass. My decision is final. I’ll go wit’ ye. I need ta. I want ta. Yer my fate.”
“You’re my fate?” she whispered.
“Aye.”
“Angus really agreed?”
Eoin nodded. “Aye, mò gradh. He said my place is wit’ ye, in tha future.”
She sat up higher, but couldn’t break their physical contact. His bare skin was so warm against her, even through layers, the plaid and his leine. Ashlyn sighed.
“Somethin’ wrong?” He continued to stroke her shoulders and back.
“I just don’t know, Eoin—”
“‘Tis settled, lass. Mò gradh.” His words were an order, but the delivery playful. He punctuated them with soft kisses all over her face. “Trust yer laird.”
She grinned, she couldn’t help it. “Okay.”
Ashlyn loved him. Eoin loved her.
He trusted her enough to jump centuries permanently, so she’d have to trust him, too.
He was going to come home with her?
To live?
Her whole body leapt.
Love was easy if it was with Eoin.