Reckoning (Book 4 of Lost Highlander series) (22 page)

To her, he looked like a ray of sunlight after forty days of rain. She quickly grew used to his new short hair, but was glad to find out he didn’t have any plans to keep it short.

He wore a loose pair of flannel pajama pants and a soft white t-shirt she’d pushed up to check his injuries. She ran her fingers over his solid stomach and along the bunched up edge of the shirt, sliding her hands under it to grip his shoulders. She found that she couldn’t keep her hands or eyes off him and hadn’t been from his side for more than a minute or two since they’d been back. Now he was awake and his voice was the sweetest music to her ears.

“Are you very sore?”

He grinned at her and lifted himself off his pillow, holding out his arms so she could work the shirt over his head. “Verra sore,” he said.

“Shall I leave you alone, then?” she asked, unable to look away from him.

He took her leg and hauled it over him so she sat astride his lap. “Did the wee doctor no’ say I should move around and keep my blood flowing?”

Sliding backwards, she pushed against him to find his blood was flowing perfectly fine. “Oh, is that what he said? I thought I heard him say you needed to lie still until you’re healed.”

He placed his hands on her hips and moved suggestively beneath her. “I can lie still, if that is what ye prefer. I dinna mind if ye do all the work.”

A rush of sensation swept up her body, urged along by his roaming hands. Something else sang in her, stronger than desire. It filled her to brimming.

“I love you,” she whispered, kissing him gently on his bruised mouth.

He gripped the back of her head and pressed her closer, deepening their kiss. The stroke of his fingers down the length of her arms and the brush of his tongue against her lips made her insides turn liquid.

“I love ye always,” he said when she pulled away to look down at him.

She didn’t think she could ever get enough of him. “The being separated has to stop,” she said breathlessly. “We have to decide when we’re going to live.”

“Aye, we canna be apart anymore. I dinna like it at all.”

She nodded, smiling distractedly as he set about unbuttoning her sweater. He frowned at each tiny pearl button on the cardigan, and she laughed when he pushed it off her shoulders to find she wore a gauzy sheer blouse with another long row of buttons. He traced the straps of her camisole through it and she suddenly wished he would just tear it off, wanting to feel his warm hands on her skin.

Instead, he started in again, giving her a look that said she deserved the slow torture for wearing it in the first place. When he slid his fingertips over her collarbone and ran them along the scooped neckline of her cami, she dropped her head back and sighed, remembering they were in the middle of an important conversation.

“Well?” she reminded him, trying to shake out of her pleasure haze. “What do you think?”

He popped the last three buttons on her blouse and spread it open, looking absolutely pained at the presence of her camisole. “I think I verra much want to touch your breasts,” he said.

Heat flooded her and she wriggled out of her tops, vowing to stop layering now that they were back together. She eagerly leaned into his big hands as he cupped her breasts, watching his eyes darken as he took her in. She loved how much he loved her, and wanted to give him everything in return.

“We can go to your time,” she said, finding it hard to speak and harder to think. “I liked your brother. I’d love to meet your sister, too.”

His shoulder muscles tensed as he ran his hands down her sides, then flipped up the bottom of her skirt. He hooked his fingers in the top band of her panties, hands splayed across her middle. Piper wriggled her hips to try to get him to work faster, but he kept his hands tantalizingly still.

“I shall miss them, but I have made my farewells to the past,” he said. “This is my time now, with ye.”

His eyes swept down her body and back up to rest on her face. He blinked slowly, a sweet smile curling his lips. She leaned down and kissed him once again, savoring the bliss she felt, so different from the anguish she’d lived with the last months. If Daria was still present in her life, she didn’t feel her now.

There was only Lachlan. She could barely take a moment to comprehend all that he’d given up for her, when her senses were swept away by his persistent grip on her hips. There were still far too many items of clothing between them.

Scooting back further, she slipped out of his grasp and edged his pajama bottoms down, tracing a vein that ran across his washboard abdomen. She frowned at the bruises that discolored his taut skin.

“How many people did you have to fight?” she asked, rolling off and stretching out beside him so she could kiss these newly revealed bruises. He raised his head, gritting his teeth when her mouth moved dangerously low, and tangled his fingers in her hair. She stopped her ministrations and looked at him expectantly.

“A fair few,” he said in a pained voice, letting his head drop back against the pillow.

She ran her fingernails up and down his thigh, enjoying watching him jump. “My brave hero,” she breathed against him.

He smiled and continued his story. “It was when the wee heathen shot me in the leg with the arrow that I took the brunt of it,” he explained. “Kicks mostly, but I think a few cowardly types stood back and threw rocks.”

She frowned, not sure she wanted to hear anymore, but he was warmed to his story and reached down to pull her up closer to him. She nestled beside him, resting against his chest.

“All I had to do was think of ye,” he said. “And it was as if I had the strength of ten men. I tossed them all aside and bashed a nose or two, then managed to slink away and hide. I passed out for a bit, which is why it took me so long to find ye.” He looked down at her, his dark lashes hypnotizing her with their slow flutter across his cheekbones. “I may have said this once or twice already, my love, but I am glad to be home.” He moved a lock of her hair behind her ear and stroked her jaw with his thumb. “Seeing your beautiful face is so much better than remembering it.”

“Oh, Lachlan.”

She could never explain with words how she felt about him, how completely whole and happy he made her. He pulled her head close and claimed her mouth with his. His hands roamed down her back, unzipping her skirt and tugging it down as far as he could. She breathlessly kicked it the rest of the way off, returning to his lips with hungry passion as she straddled him once more.

She was tired of missing him, tired of going without and she broke away from their kiss to roughly grab him and guide him into her. With a delighted moan, she sank her weight downward, clutching his shoulders as he dug his hands into her hips, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

“Ye had the right idea, love,” he managed, unable to speak further as she moved atop him.

She let the heady flow of pleasure course through her as she took in his strong chest and flat, chiseled stomach, the rippling muscles of his arms as he held onto her, the way his big hands, scratched and cut as they were, touched her so gently.

She could hardly breathe under the weight of her love for him. Leaning forward, she kissed his shoulder and he grabbed her face in his hands, capturing her with his deep blue gaze.

He slid his fingers down between them, sending firebolts up through her body. She greedily never wanted it to end and fought against his expert touch, hoping to prolong it, wishing they could stay that way forever.

“Piper,” he gasped, and her name on his lips was her undoing.

She cried out as he held on tightly, thrusting hard into her before letting go and collapsing back onto the pillows. She followed him, resting her forehead against the side of his neck. His pulse beat fast and strong, and his chest rose and fell in time with hers as he ran his fingers up and down her spine. She kissed him under his jaw, and after a languorous moment of recovery, rolled bonelessly to his side.

Lachlan rolled over to face her, getting his arm under her head. With a frown, he paused and leaned up on his elbow, rummaging under her pillow. “What is this?” he asked, pulling out the ring box.

She could see he recognized it and felt embarrassed for forgetting she’d hidden it there, as well as embarrassed that she’d opened it at all. She started to explain again how she’d thought he was dead, but closed her mouth, feeling tears spring to her eyes at the lonely memories.

“Did ye no’ like the ring?” he asked, popping open the box.

Her finger itched to have it on, and she shook her head vigorously. “I love the ring,” she said. “I didn’t …” she shrugged. “I didn’t know what you meant by it. I only wore it in secret.” Her face flamed and she tried to roll over.

He grabbed her and smiled. “This is a muddle, aye?” He sat up, wincing in pain. “Ye know I love ye, but I shall say it anyway, since I like to. I love ye. I dinna know if it matters to ye that I am still legally married to your great-great-great—”

Piper put her hand on his chest to stop him. “Shut up,” she said. “Let’s pretend that never happened, okay?”

“Verra well.” He smirked and snapped the box shut, sliding it back under the pillows.

“Lachlan!”

His beautiful smile overtook his face and he plucked the ring from the box. He slid it onto her finger, then kissed her fingertips, turning her hand over to finally kiss her palm. “Will ye be mine?” he asked.

“I already am yours,” she told him.

He narrowed his eyes at her and leaned in close. “Will ye marry me, then?” he asked in his low rumble, inches from her mouth.

She tilted her head to kiss him, her heart full of so much joy, no evil could ever find room there.

“Yes,” she said.

***

Piper smoothed her modest one piece swimming suit and melted against Lachlan on the double hammock. He’d nearly had apoplexy when he saw what she would be wearing out onto the sand, and kept averting his face whenever a more scantily clad woman walked past.

She however, was more than happy with the black trunks that rested low on his hips and hugged his powerful thighs. Taking a moment to ogle him, she rested her hand on his bare, brawny chest, which was picking up a very nice golden suntan. Yes, coming to this secluded island paradise had been an excellent idea, though Lachlan had hated his first plane ride.

His ears popped incessantly and he turned quite green until about an hour into the flight, when she finally forced him to take a double dose of antihistamine with a triple whiskey and he passed out. She didn’t mind though, as it meant booking a cruise back to Britain. More time with Lachlan in swim trunks was always going to be fine by her.

Sam and Evie waved at them from the water’s edge, and Evie held up chubby little Magnus in his bright red sun hat. When they’d arrived back in their own time, Evie had been so stressed out, obsessing about a mysterious man she swore up and down was another time traveler, that Piper insisted she and Sam join them on their vacation.

“Perhaps one day we shall have a wee lad or lass of our own,” Lachlan rumbled contentedly as he idly waved back at them. He ran his hand over her stomach and gave her an angelic smile, a hint of the devil shining in his eyes.

She shivered with excited anticipation at that prospect. “That would be wonderful,” she said. “We can give him or her seventeen names like you have.”

He laughed. “Not so many as that. But I had a lot of uncles and my father wanted to try to get me an inheritance of some sort from one of them. Better luck to Quinn as the ones I was named for were no’ impressed by the ploy.”

He reached over and pushed against the trunk of a nearby palm tree, starting a soothing rocking motion. A warm breeze wafted across their bodies and he sighed, pulling her close. “I like it here better than I thought,” he said, nibbling on her earlobe. “I dinna think I have ever felt such hot weather.”

“Not in Scotland you haven’t,” she said. She sprawled her leg across him, careful of his fresh scars. “And you haven’t felt anything near hot until you come to Texas to meet my mom.”

Piper had decided to tell her mother the truth about her eighteenth century origins, about the conflict with Daria, about how she’d met Lachlan and all the things they’d been through. She hoped her mom would take it well and be able to forgive Rose. Or at least understand her better.

Piper herself struggled with moving on from her grandmother’s betrayal. She had to believe it came from a place of grief, driven to desperation by all the years she’d been tormented by Daria. Poor Rose hadn’t had her husband or a true friend to help her fight, and she hadn’t trusted her family, so ended up alone. Piper was determined to do things differently.

She still felt Daria’s power deep within her, but the malevolent anger was gone. Right before they left for this trip, Piper had gone into the crypt and stood in front of Daria’s tomb for a long time. She’d wondered if her witchy ancestor was really in there now, or if the crows had picked her carcass apart where Lachlan had left her. Or if she was still traipsing around in some other time, wreaking havoc.

Standing in front of the tomb, Piper hadn’t felt any fear, and if she wasn’t sure she’d vanquished Daria completely, what was left of her was no longer a threat. She was glad Evie had been right about that, had confidence in her when she didn’t have any in herself.